Pizzaboys Review
 Where I come from all the guys who can't make it in life deliver pizzas, while all the girls cut hair. Neither are very competent at either profession, and none take any pride in their work. It's not uncommon for any resident, at any time, to answer their front door and find a pizza boy with an over-dyed, crooked-cut, outdated hairstyle holding a pizza whose cheese has all slid to one side of the box. Why no one complains is beyond me. One of my ex-girlfriends was a "beautician"—actually most of my exes from that era ended up both as mothers and stylists—but this one in particular would cut my hair for me and purposely butcher my head. I later asked her why she did that to me so often. "I didn't want other girls looking at you." Since then I've gotten into the habit of growing my hair extremely long, until I can't take it anymore, then chopping it down to nothing and starting over. My sister-in-law has noticed this pattern and recently offered to trim my hair back for me. Why is it that all women think they can cut hair? Is it an innate talent? "I cut your brother's hair," she said to me as reassurance. My brother has basically had the same feathered, part-in-the-middle, Bruce Dickenson haircut for as long as I can remember, and I think it looks like shit. Always have. So if that hair is her only reference, then I think I'd be better off with a weed wacker, some boxing gloves and a pack of matches sitting in the dark.
[ back to top ]
© 2007 chrisnieratko.com |
|
