Deanna Moffitt

Snip. Sometimes with the moment that scissors meet the hair shaft you can tell if it’s going to be a good haircut or a bad haircut. This one is a bad haircut. I wanted to just yell stop as soon as he started cutting, but I didn’t. When the trimmers came out I knew for sure it was too short in the back But I didn’t say a word, I just let me him continue on his hack job. Joshua chatters away telling me way too much about his personal life, abusive boyfriend, masturbation, Elton John they are all brief talking points as the scissors continue whacking away.

And just when I think it’s over, when he puts down the scissors for the hairdryer and I get a moment to take in the damage that’s been done and the irony behind waiting three months for a haircut so I can go to one of the more expensive places on the island. Joshua says he needs to texturize my hair. He’s right my hair at this length can sometimes look like a mushroom cap, especially in the heat and humidity of Hawaii. And I watch in silent horror as the thinning scissors go to work and my thick hair is clear-cut to within an inch of its life.

When he’s done Joshua is clearly pleased with his work. He spins me around and hands me a mirror to show me the back of my hair, which honestly does look good, it’s just not at all what I wanted. It’s the front that I’m mostly concerned with and that my friends, is an entirely different matter. The front is choppy and yet thin and wispy, none of which are normal attributes used to describe my hair. When he turns me back around he says, “You look fierce”. I’m not sure I’m the “fierce” type. He’s obviously a taken aback when my response is less than effusive. In fact, what I want to say is “I hate it”, but I mumble something about not expecting it to be so short and that I ‘m sure it will grow out well.

All of this is of course my own learning lesson, to be clearer about what I want and more assertive when things veer off plan. Which is applicable to more areas of my life than the hair salon.

After paying AND tipping, (talk about adding insult to injury) I spend the rest of the day catching glimpses of myself and wanting to scream, kick and cry. My birthday is tomorrow and not only have I gained 5 holiday pounds that I’ve yet to lose, I’ve got a fierce haircut that I now get to spend the next several months growing out and cursing. Maybe 2010 won’t be my year after all.

The evidence speaks for itself.

Tagged: bad haircuts, humor