Haircut

Got my haircut today... finally... I was starting to worry about catching on fire, the wisps of gray fluff that have become my hair are perfect tinder... a stray beam of sunlight magnified through a crack in the windshield resulting in a quiet spontaneous combustion on the highway... screams muffled by the droning AC and closed windows... smashing to a stop against the guardrail, unable to pat out the flames, running away from the car and across lanes of traffic, people wide-eyed and pointing, slowing down and rubbernecking to see the crazy old guy doing the "I'm Mr. Heat Miser..." dance in the middle of I-95.

The woman who cut my hair today was very nice (what is it about the people who cut my hair? why do they become such important parts of my life?) but she had a major, major acne problem. I'm talking zits on top of zits - volcanic formations, redness, swelling... her cheeks were like cavern ceilings, stalactites formed by millions of years of pus formations... bizarre... I found myself wondering why she doesn't do the Proactiv thing with Jessica Simpson... or God knows what... there has to be a solution... but I wonder if maybe she just doesn't give a shit. Bizarre... I noticed that she wasn't wearing a wedding ring (I always look, don't I...) and I couldn't help but wonder if she was happy. I don't think she is. Maybe I'm completely wrong and she's living a fine life, but I just don't think so... I think she's probably goes home and cracks open a lot of cans of gourmet kitty food... She's probably got some guy who lives downstairs who gets drunk enough every few weeks to knock on her door in the middle of the night and give her a quick and nasty boinking before passing out on her living room floor....

I just don't know... But I do know one thing... All zits aside, she gives good haircut.