Friday, November 03, 2006

I take my hair very seriously

Yesterday at the naturopath I got a haircut. Mind you, the naturopath ranks right up there with Great Cuts and the Hair Cuttery in terms of hair styling, but I had no choice. He ordered the haircut so that his lab could perform some heavy metal tests on my hair.

For most people this haircut would be a minor endeavor and the few hairs cut off would likely not be noticed. But for me, someone with extremely short hair, cutting enough hair off my head to perform these tests required cutting in MANY spots. So, after ten minutes and twenty snips the naturopathic barber finished her butchery. But, unlike my usual hairdresser, she did not give me a mirror to examine the back. So I walked out into the world ignorant to how my head looked to those behind me. That is, until I met TW for lunch.

TW took one look at my head and started giggling. She tried to help defuse the situation by matting my hair down and giving me a poor-man’s version of the comb over but nothing worked. My glaringly white scalp shone through in a series of loonie-sized patches. So in an effort to minimize the spectacle of my head, I spent the bulk of the rest of the day walking backwards down the street like a tour guide pointing out landmarks.

This tactic worked until I ran into an elderly woman ambling down the street with her walker in tow. Since she was heading in the same direction as me - just at a slower pace and face forward - my elbow rammed into her back when I overtook her at my brisk pace. She yelped in pain.

But as soon as she turned around and caught sight of the back of my head she began laughing heartily. I started to laugh too but then I stopped when I remembered we were laughing at my own hair. I take my hair very seriously.

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