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    No, I got ’em all cut

    People can be very odd.

    I got my hair cut yesterday. Exact same haircut as I’ve gotten every month for the past decade (including the gunking up of the finished product with styling wax, as if it were long enough to be disarranged even by a typhoon).

    You’d think I’d gotten cosmetic surgery. “Wow! Something’s different…you look great!” said one of the giggly, flirty girls behind the counter at Dean & Deluca. She was politic enough to add, “I mean, even better than usual. Refreshed.” A less politic friend last night gushed, “Don’t you look butch tonight!” Her “I mean, more than usual” wasn’t forthcoming for a good thirty seconds and several further sips of beer. I’m not averse to compliments by any means, but is it too much to ask that they not be so time-specific and be delivered without hammy astonishment?

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