Sometimes, a man must ask himself the question, "Can I cut my own hair?" The answer is no. It's always no. It's a dumb question. That's why I currently have three bald patches on the back of my head.
Earlier today, I returned to my old stomping grounds of upstate New York. After taking a nice hot shower to rid myself of the hobo stench that inevitably clings after a night ride on a greyhound, I realized that my hair had grown longer than I tend to like. So, I gave myself a haircut.
The result caused my housemate to first look at me in shock and then to start cracking up. Glancing in the mirror, I didn't think it was that bad, until he took a picture of the back of my head and showed it to me.
I texted Max and Nate, asking if either of them knew a good place to get a haircut. Nate did, but his place was farther away than I willing to travel. Max responded that he didn't, and that further more, he hadn't gotten wasted at a party the night before and was stuck way out of town, so we might have trouble getting together later tonight.
No big deal, I thought. There's a nice haircut place on campus. I'll just get a buzz cut and have my little experiment cleaned up there. Unfortunately, upon arrival, I discovered that the haircut place is only open on Wednesdays and Fridays during the summer.
So yeah. I'm stick with raggedy, patchy hair for two days. At least I don't have to look at myself.
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