Sweeny Todd

I learned something this morning.

Hair cutters, stylists, barbers...whatever you want to call 'em...

They do NOT want your hair to look good. They want it short, frayed, and nappy and they will do everything in their power to keep it that way. Because if your hair looks BAD, you'll have to keep going BACK to get them to make it look good again!

Case in point. I sort of felt like my hair was getting a little long. Nothing I couldn't handle, but maybe let's take an inch or two off the back.

MISTAKE NUMBER ONE:

I went with an internet recommendation.

MISTAKE NUMBER TWO:

I got a guy whose first language was not English.

MISTAKE NUMBER THREE:

I listened to other people.

MISTAKE NUMBER FOUR:

Once the reaping began, I didn't have the balls to stop it.

* * * *

I got to the salon. The little man smiles brightly at me and says in a coy manner, "Allo Forkee. Joo seet down. Make jorself comforble."

He washes my hair in the sink. Ahh. This is fine. A regular scalp massage. Water's a little warm for it to be good for the hair, but not too bad.

"How joo want me to cut?"

"Nothing much," I said. "It's the first time I've ever grown my hair out and I just need maybe a little bit off the back and just a basic clean up to get rid of split ends and what have you."

"Oh. Jokay. I know wha wee doo."

The shampooing done, the guy yanks my hair in his mitt, then PUUUULLS and TWIIIISTS and WRIIIINGS it out. My instinct was to say, "OW! What are you doing? Easy, buddy! It's hair, not adamantium! These hairs are more than a year old! They DO come out if you pull them like that!" but I bit my tongue.

Then he sat me in the chair and started combing it like some sort of...crazy comber, ripping through all the snags and tangles. Again, "OW! Geeze, dude! Don't you know hair is most fragile when wet? And when you tear through these knots like you're doing, you're doing a tremendous amount of damage to the ends which will be more apt to SPLIT!"

But again I said nothing.

He got to work. Suddenly he started shearing my locks with a hair-thinner.

Wait.

A HAIR THINNER?!?!

EXCUSE ME?!

"Joo have a lot of hcair. I joos theen eet a leetle beet."

I didn't know what to do. I kept thinking, "Fork, you've GOT to stop him. Tell him to stop! Do NOT let him THIN your hair!" But then another voice replied, "But I can't stop him NOW! It'll look WORSE! I dunno...maybe he knows what he's doing!"

(This sounds really stupid or whatever, but I'm really shaken and a little bit traumatized. Do you realize how long it takes for hair to GROW? Do you realize how much I WENT through to get it this length?)

He laughed and said, "Looka all the hcair I cut offa joo!" I looked down and gave a VERY weak laugh as I saw the PILES AND PILES of hair sitting at my feet.

I told him it MUST be able to be pulled back.

"Looka. I cut offa bou' a-three eenchiz. Is good, no?"

He left JUST enough that I can pull it back only if it's wet and if I comb it back until it hurts. Then I get a teeny sprig that I can tie back.

Then he said, "Joo like-a me to dry it for joo?"

That was when I almost lost it.

"ARE YOU NUTS?! Do you have ANY idea how bad that is for hair?! Are you TRYING to make me look bad?!"

And that's when I realized...

(insta-replay of all the hair faux pas the stylist committed in my 15 minutes in that chair of hairy horrors)

Yes. That's exactly what he's doing.

I remember reading on various websites in the research I did when I started growing my hair long that you MUST look at barbers as the enemy. Your friends will say, "You should get it cleaned up." Don't listen to them. Your Mom will say, "You should get it cut." Until you're ready to go short, don't listen to her. Don't listen to anybody.

Barbers and stylists may seem all nice and sweet on the outside, but inside, they want your hair short. They want it snagged. They want it popped. They want it ripped. Because that kind of hair is messy hair. And messy hair means you'll come back for more.

"This keepa joo good for two months!" said Guapo with a cheery grin. "Then joo come-a back a-see me!"

For two months? If I came back for another haircut in two months there wouldn't be anything LEFT!

I ran out of the stylist shoppe and went to the nearest dark window. I took my hair down and mussed it up a little bit.

He bobbed it.

He effing bobbed it.

I almost collapsed in utter disbelief. I could hear passers-by muttering. Some were pointing. Some laughing. Tourists took sneaky pictures with their cell phones. I ran to 10th avenue. Yes, I'll go to 10th. 10th avenue is quiet. Not many people there. I can get home without anybody seeing...THIS.

"Hey! Look! It's Thoroughly Modern Millie!"

I...I'm going to lie down for a little while. Yes. Lie down...

Don't trust people. People will hurt you. People will screw up your hair and make you look like somebody's kid sister. Whatever you do, don't trust anybody else. I mean it. People are just gonna screw you up. Don't listen to them. They're idiots.

Right now you're all thinking, "Oh my gosh, Fork has lost it."

That's because you can't see me.

Maybe Queen III's early-morning observation is right. Time to change the quote at the top of the blog.