Hair Raising Experience….

I have heard it all… even seen it all... the last few months... have been hairy… infact very hairy… confused ? … maybe even grossed out… well relax… I just decided to grow my hair…26 years of a wasted existence and finally I let those locks grow…
All of this comes at a price though… to start with having a bad hair day for 4 months (I wake up every morning looking like a hairy mushroom)… man... that’s more like a bad hair year... and especially for someone who had the most immaculately spiked hair for the longest time (at one point in my life I was even called ‘pine’) (a startling resemblance to a porcupine)... being me right now... or rather being hairy is a painful experience... To add to that are the names I am referred to… cousin IT... being just one of them, ‘bal ke dukan’ (a shop full of hair)... and the list goes on.

But well so this is how it all started… and it had nothing to do with me... it had everything to do with a Moroccan stylist here in Glasgow… don’t even know why I went to him… but then it was all those references( and I regret having ever taken them seriously)… and after 20 mins of being under his scissors ( felt more like being under a butchers knife) he gave me the worst hair cut of my life… and at the end of it he had the gall to tell me in a thick Moroccan accent… “Butt in My Countree you would looook beautiphul” like hell yeah he forgot I was not in Morocco.

But anyways… this was sometime late last year and that’s when I decided as long as I am going to be in this country... no more hair cuts... ya I know I mean the logical conclusion to the same would have been to have changed the stylist... but hell yeah I was not ready to risk another Moroccan tragedy.

So here I am 7 months from my last hair cut…looking like shit… my ex girlfriend who met me recently after a long time, after seeing the hair (or the excess of it) was ecstatic about her decision of dumping me… to add to that my flat mate is always walking around with a pair of scissors, the threat of him ever catching me sleeping looms large (don’t worry he is straight, or atleast i hope so)… but now the hair bit has become an obsession.. recently I acquired a hair band and started sporting it… very gay I must say… and just the other day I did the unthinkable... I even straightened my hair… my long wavy almost curly hair were straightened… I thought I looked like a lahsa apso dog ….or even better, one of those boy band members…

Now I don’t know how far I am going to take this… it’s a scary place to be in just to think of what’s next... I have a whole range of hair products ranging from conditioners to straighteners… God I must hand it out to women with long hair… they are the ones with the real balls to go through all that pain everyday… (new found respect).
I even spend most of time talking to people about my hair… if I had my way I would write my dissertation on the same subject… so if any of you people reading this have a suggestion ( except for getting a hair cut ) please feel free to leave some in the comments section, and remember this isn’t my fault .. just blame the Moroccan for it...