One other thing happened after the non-balloon ride evening. I came home, went in for a regular one, but came home with a tennis-ball hair cut, meaning just enough to cover the scalp from turning into a reflector. After he was done, the barber smiled and said, “Ah, the gray hair pops now!”
I thought they’d never come back. I don’t know if you’ll believe it when I say this, but I’ve had gray hair since I was a child. But that’s not the unbelievable part; my grayness keeps fluctuating. About 5 years ago, the gray hair challenged the black and almost won the race. Within a year, they were barely visible.
Mm mm. I feel like a weight hath been lifted from my head. Last time I had a crop like this was 3 years ago. I was returning from the AAIFF and was approached by a cop at a subway station.
“Wanna make a quick 20 bucks?”
“Stand in a line-up. Make quick 20 bucks.”
“Oh it’s nothing. You match a description.”
“Yeah, no big deal. You’ll be in and out.”
“No, thank you”
“Yes, thanks for asking though.”
He held his look for a coupla seconds.
He bounced. Ran up the steps he descended from 2 minutes before. I noticed I was standing two feet from a camera above me. I’ve since then decided to never combine that hair cut and a Metallica T-Shirt again.
Besides being puzzled about the whole thing, I kept thinking of the Seinfeld episode where Kramer stood in a line-up. And he made $50!