Another Reason to Think Before You Speak

Before thinking, I had already said Hi. The damage was done.

It was the guy formerly known as my hairdresser. I like him well enough. Several friends had referred me to him. I had never left an appointment distraught. But I also had never left his chair exuberant about my new do.

My last two haircuts weren’t with him. Another friend had a fabulous haircut, raved about her hairdresser, so I tried her. And loved her. Twice now I’ve left the salon with a “Look at me – I’m sassy – oh yeah!” kind of cut.

He knew I’d been unfaithful. He eyed my hair with suspicion, but didn’t comment. I introduced him to the others I was with, “This is Paul. He’s my…” I wasn’t sure what to call him. Hairstylist? Not anymore. Ex-hairstylist? Too dramatic. Some guy I used to pay to play with my hair? No. “He’s… uh…. he cuts hair.” Even as I said the words, I felt as though I had been caught, even though I hadn’t done anything wrong. Could have been worse. Can’t think of how at the moment, but I’m sure it could have been.

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