Now that everybody has met my new haircut, I will regale you with yet another story about hair. When my sister was 19, she met a thirty-one-year-old guy. Let's call him Carlos. My sister had been living with me since she was sixteen, so I understandably felt responsible for her.
One day she went on a date with Carlos. A short time into the date, she called me on the phone. She was crying so hard that she could hardly speak.
"Carlos is soooooo mean," she sobbed. "I can't believe he did this to me."
When I heard that, I imagined every single horrible thing that a 31-year-old man can do to a 19-year-old girl. My heart plopped into my stomach and my hands started shaking. I tried to control my terror, however, in order to avoid traumatizing the child even further.
"What. . . did. . . he. . . do. . . to. . . you?" I managed to squeeze out of myself.
"It's horrible!" she wailed. "I don't even want to say!"
I saw images of hospitals, police stations and myself assaulting Carlos with a chainsaw flash before my eyes.
"He went to a salon and got this horrible haircut," my sister continued.
"And??" I asked, shaking in terror.
"You wouldn't just say 'And?' if you saw how ugly this haircut is!" she responded indignantly. "It's hideous! I can't believe he did this to me! Now I have to put up with it until his hair grows back."
My sister and Carlos have been together for almost 10 years. They are still looking for a salon that will do justice to his great hair.