It figures that right as I’m ending my Time of Long Hair, I find a regular haircut place. I went back to Ken yesterday for another great haircut. It was great because there was no awkward time of me mumbling about Alton Brown. He said “I remember you. You’re the teacher.” I said that I forgot to bring my pictures this time and did he remember what he did because I don’t know how to ask for what I want. He said, “Yes. You just want it shorter and kind of spiky on top.” Is that really all I would’ve had to say all this time? Is that the official stylist’s description of my hair? Dang. I wish I would’ve known that five months ago.
Anyway, Ken said he just recently has been granted the ability to take appointments. I guess you have to earn that or “graduate” to it if you work at Hair Cuttery. He said next time I want a haircut, I should call sometime during the day so I can just walk right in after school and get my hair cut. Then he gave me his card.
So I have a stylist. I feel like a movie star.