The Near-Mullet Experience

For the second time in my life I decided to put my hair into the hands of a Peruvian hair stylist. It was a spur of the moment decision, and in retrospect, probably not that intelligent. My friend Val recommended a salon, located on the street with all of the other salons in Chiclayo. Given that it was packed and chaotic, I should have left immediately. Instead, I waited patiently and allowed a young man with horrible blond highlights to basically attack my hair. I should have known when he combed all of my hair into a ponytail on top of my head and chopped it off, that it wasn’t going to be pretty. Part way through, I realized that my hair was taking a classic shape, that of the Mullet. As he was winding down I started to realize that the mullet still hadn’t gone away. I decided it was time to intervene and politely asked if he was going to remove the bottom layer of mulletness which he apparently thought was de moda (in-style). He seemed a bit perplexed and began to thin out the mullet with a razor, really only exacerbating the issue at hand. Getting a bit concerned, I decided he needed a bit more guidance. “You see the scissors? Yeah? Well, maybe you should try using them to cut off the rest of that mullet.” With that, he finally removed the mullet but, by that point, the rest of my hair that remained was in classic school marm shape. I wasn’t happy. But it only cost $3.50 and hair grows, so I guess I can’t complain. Still, a mullet?!