Bangs

I'm hungry.
I haven't been hungry in 3 weeks.
I got my hair cut today. It's been over 6 months. Embarrassing. My hairdresser, Shirin, went overboard, because she knows she won't see me for another season. I hate it. She gave me bangs. I told her that I just wanted little wispy tendrils to escape from my braid and soften my features, and she gave me these full-on bangs that I hate. I look like a wrinkly seventh grader. That's probably why I'm hungry--I need to eat to take away the pain. Maybe I'll drink instead.
Shirin is getting married. It's been a long haul.
I met Shirin 9 years ago. At that time, I had a beautiful little 3 color process blonde bob that needed care about every six weeks. This Japanese girl was cutting my hair--sort of. I never thought she was that great, but in this town she was the best I could find. I had to cancel appointments occasionally--something was always coming up--my kids were young and and I was newly single. One day, as I was making my next appointment, she came up to me and said that if I canceled this appointment she would charge me the full amount and she would never schedule another appointment with me again. I thought this was a little grandiose--I just laughed "what are you, a shrink?" I handed her $150 (a lot for a haircut in Little Dixie) and said, "please consider my next cut and color canceled. Here's some cash in advance for your trouble. " Then I looked at the receptionist, a fat queen staring at me open-mouthed, and said "Harold, please make an appointment for me with someone who understands single-motherhood."
He gave me to Shirin. Harold, by the way, became a good friend--he ended up working at the nursing school. He still talks about that incident. "Oh my god, it was like a movie or something. You just slapped that cash down. You should have seen her face. She was so arrogant..."
So I got Shirin who was a single mom herself. Of course, I have been left in the chair with foils half in and wet hair as she ran out of the shop to go pick up a sick kid--but all in all, the relationship has worked out. And the hair has been generally good--except today. I mean, I guess I suppose it is good, I just haven't learned to appreciate it. Sometimes Shirin takes my appearance into her own hands.
Shirin has been dating her guy 5 years. He's very sweet and boring, but they did have one terrible break-up over a coffee maker. About 3 years ago, she thought the relationship was moving steadily toward marriage. He was staying over at her house 5 nights out of seven and she thought it was just a matter of time. She had a very expensive coffee maker--some sort of beautiful $1000 brass Italian thingy. He just loved it.
Well, around Christmastime, they were shopping in St. Louis, and he bought the exact same coffee-maker. "Why are you buying a coffee maker?" she asked. "We already have one."
"You have one." He told her. "I don't. I want my own."
Oops.
She thought that was a bad sign and dumped him.
They got back together.
I'm glad. She has had kind of a nose for bad guys--like future denizens of the federal penitentiary.
One guy turned out to be a bank robber. A very charming bank robber, one who had had leads in all the high school plays around here. "I kept wondering why he kept all his money in cash in a gym bag!" she said.
Ah. Bad sign.
He was dating another friend of mine at the same time, Lark, a former beauty queen. Lark and Shirin would both tell me stories about this terrific new guy they were seeing--and I'd think--'wow, that sounds exactly like something Shirin's guy would do' or vice versa--and I was even kind of jealous. They were both dating this terrific, charming guy. Then they told me his name and I realized they were seeing the same person. I didn't know what to do.
So one day, I just casually said, "Wow, that sounds exactly like the guy Lark is dating. Does he have a brother or something?"
Shirin stopped cutting my hair. "Lark is obsessed with him. She calls him constantly and follows him around. You can't believe anything she says. She's crazy."
And then Lark would say, "Shirin is so desperate. He wants to break up with her, but she calls him all the time and follows him around. She's crazy. He doesn't want to hurt her feelings, so he hasn't officially broken it off--but they're not having sex."
Women. We're all so desperate.
But they got wise eventually. Sometimes I'm glad I'm kind of plain--I escape the notice of these lotharios.
"I don't understand how you could have fallen for him..." I said to Shirin, once.
She shrugged.
Then to change the subject, I started talking about movies. The Royal Tennenbaums was just out, and we started talking about that.
"I like Rushmore better, "I offered. If you recall, Rushmore is my favorite movie. I've watched it probably 200 times.
Shirin got sad. "That was his favorite movie. He had it on tape. He would watch it over and over again."
I gasped. "I do that."
Shirin put my head between her hands, leaned over me, face next to mine, side by side in the mirror. "You would have fallen in love with him, too, Haley Patton."

Near miss, I guess.

That's my 1/2 hour.