The Haircut

He did it.

A lot of people, for a long time, have given Mistah a hard time about his waist-long ponytail.

He’s always resisted the nay-sayers, though. And not just to be contrary. His waist-long ponytail is cool. And Awesome. And different. And distinct.

I mean, how many other people can compete with Mona, who, by the way, is about 5 feet tall and is standing on a chair to be the same height as Billy?

Plus, they both have waist-length hair.

Actually, they both did have waist-length hair.

Yesterday Bill decided he’d had enough. He was tired of the flyaway ends, he was tired of his ponytail getting caught in everything, he was tired of leaning back against the back of a barstool and having his head getting frozen in position.

He asked me to cut it for him.

I fixed us a couple of stiff drinks for courage – we were both nervous – Bill, afterall, last had his hair cut in 2000. 2000. That's a decade ago, my friends.

He assumed the position . . .

(really, those are serious flyaways.)

*I* assumed the position . . .

(And speaking of hair? My girl Jennie is a genius.)

And then? . . . Snip!

Voilà!

(That's me, by the way, and my unique, iconoclastic photographical stance.)

Flyaways no more.

And just like that, ten years later, a haircut. I think Mistah looks good in a crew cut.