Friday, January 4, 2008

When Compliments are Insulting

I sat down on the L1 bus & took my hat off, shaking out my crappy haircut (which is, yes, still crappy, even though it's been a couple weeks since the initial atrocity of the cut). And the woman across from me is staring at me, perhaps, I assume, because my hair looks like something out of a horrible "walk of shame" scene in some college-themed movie.

"Who cuts your hair?" she asks me, a little bit nervously. I brace myself for the blow that's on it's way to my ego, about to tell her, but instead she says, "It's one of the best cuts I've seen in years."

OhmyGodyoupoorthing.

Quick, somebody take this woman out in public. Introduce her to someone, anyone -- to a scenester with a Zac Efron side-sweep, to an old woman with a bun & a hairnet, to a middle-aged balding guy with a combover, to Amy Winehouse -- to ANYONE. Lady, you live in the nation's capital --- there are nearly 5 million people here, & I guarantee a few million have them have haircuts that trump this one.

Seriously? I couldn't even be flattered. I just felt bad for her.

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