People always have to find some reason to make fun of me immediately after a haircut. “You look like a poodle!”, “Oh you look like a girl!” (when I keep it long), “Oh you look like a girl with short hair!” (when I get it short), “Oh, dandruff!” (shaven).
So, I get rather touchy about the subject of haircuts.
Now, you’d expect that when you pay fifty time more than the cost of a haircut in India, a hair salon in US would employ nothing less than a PhD in hair-dressing. Heh, you wish.
From years of experience, you’ve learned that your hair doesn’t end up looking as it does at the salon (where you flatter yourself into thinking that this time you’ve finally got that flawless haircut, and give the surprised barber a 5$ tip). So when you walk out of the salon, and find people staring at you — or your hair — you try to do the best you can to hide your face so that you don’t bump into people you know.
“You’re just being too conscious,” you tell yourself, trying to force your head up high. “The only reason that they’re staring at you, is that you’re staring at them trying to figure out if they’re staring at you.”
And therefore, you should wait at least till you reach the mirror back home, before you can convince yourself that in all likelihood, those people were indeed staring at your hair.
I hate haircuts.