Tag Archives: haircut
Where to begin? Well, for starters, when I walked in the door post-haircut, Michelle started laughing. Then she didn’t stop laughing. Then she went for the camera while I went for the sink. (I won.) I haven’t seen her laugh like that in some time, actually. This was the result of the styling process which I didn’t ask for per se, but which I absolutely got. I looked like a low-rent Macklemore.
This display finished, I looked at the kuaför in the mirror. He looked back at me with his eyes and his mustache as if to say, “don’t tell me my business, son.” After a brief nod, he began the process. As with most haircuts, the first order of business was lighting a cigarette.