I laid on my black leather couch watching The Price is Right. It was typical summer day. As I laid there, all of the sudden the screen flickered off. Because my dog sat on the remote and turned it off. All I could see was my own reflection, and my long thick hair sticking in every direction. I thought of what were to happen if somebody were to come to the door at that very moment and I would have to answer it. It was then that I came to the conclusion that I needed to clean myself up. The first step to that was a new look, and that meant a haircut. So I decided to head down to the hair salon that my mother took me to whenever I got a haircut.

I decided that I would walk down there and get my hair cut by myself. I knew it was only about a mile away, and I could surprise my mother with my haircut and show her that I was more responsible. My first step was to find money. I knew my mother would reimburse me whatever it was, so I would just use my own money. Once I finished my scan of my room, I ended with $15.25 and a couple of half dollars. I couldn’t remember exactly what it cost to get a haircut these days. I thought to myself that if it was more than 15 then I didn’t want it that bad anyways. As I opened the front door to leave, I felt the sun on my face and the heat warming up my hair, but all I could think was how in a few short minutes it would be shorter and cooler.

As I arrived at the hair salon, I was greeted by one of the hair dressers. “What’s your name?” she asked in a less than enthusiastic voice. As I stood there I quickly looked around and saw the other people waiting to get their hair cut. I then looked back and thought of what to say back to her.

“Uh, my name’s Pierce,” I replied, trying not to sound nervous or confused. She then quickly typed my name into the computer. I remembered that I needed to know how much it was going to cost. After looking around for the prices, I found it; it said that it was going to be $12. I then let out a sigh of relief and found a seat.

One by one everyone’s names were called around me. Then they got up and disappeared behind the wall that separates the waiting room and the hair cutting station. After what felt like an eternity, a lady came around the wall, went up to the computer and said, “ Pierce.” Then she stood there waiting for anybody to stand up. Almost instantly I got up and walked over to her. Then she took me behind the wall to go to my hair’s funeral. As we walked to her station we passed the other stations and I saw the remains of the past customer’s hair.

I sat down in the chair. Then she lifted it so that she could reach my hair. Before she started cutting, she told me to take off my glasses, which was a much bigger problem than I had predicted. She started looking at my hair from multiple angles to see what would look best. She finally spoke after what felt like an eternity. “What were you thinking of doing with it?” I had no idea what to say because normally my mother tells her what to do with it. So I just said I wanted it shorter. Looking back, I should have never said that. She didn’t hesitate to start cutting off every hair on my entire head short of my eyebrows. All I could see were the fallen red hairs which were simply blurs because of my lack of vision.

When she finished, she looked at me in the reflection of the mirror and asked how I liked it. Since I was unable to see anything other than my hair color in the reflection because my glasses were off, I just nodded and said I loved it. She brushed off all the hairs from around my neck; I put my glasses back on to see what my hair looked like. Little did I know at the time, but hair looks different depending on where you’re looking at it from. So I thought it looked good. I had my red hairs coming down to about half way down my forehead and the rest out of sight and out of mind.

On the walk home all I could think about was how proud my mother would be of me for doing that all by myself. When she arrived home from work a look of awe came over her face, she was less than excited about my new hair style. She then took me to her mirror which had a mirror on both sides causing the infinity mirror to show me the back of my head. There I saw the back of my head. This looked like a mushroom for a lack of a better word, which all of my friends pointed out to me until I got my next haircut. After that incident I learned that I was not fashionable to make any decisions about what I wear of what I look like without talking to my sister about it first.