The Widowed Peak

As of yesterday morning, it had been six weeks (!) since I got my haircut. Six full weeks without enjoying the feel of a set of steely clippers run alongside my scalp. So I looked forward to yesterday's appointment with much anticipation, despite the normal apprehension at having a new cut by a new person.

It was a good haircut. The British bloke who'd been cutting Meredith's hair for a couple of years now took to mine, with thoughts of his own about the No. 4 blade on a pair of clipper's vs. the No. 1.5.

"People start with the 1.5 right at the beginning and they don't know that they'll have to spend the next hour fixing the line they've just made," he told me as though it's common knowledge among the elitist of hair stylists. Before he made the first swipe with the clippers, he mumbled something as confidently circled my head about my hairline. I thought I heard him say that he would 'do something' with it, and I became a little worried, saying only something about my widow's peak. Surely he didn't intend on touching it. Just wanted to make sure.

When the session was over, I was excited to no longer have about ten pounds of hair on my head. I put my glasses on, paid him, and walked out, expressing my hope that he will head to New York soon. And at some point I looked in the mirror.

The Brit decided apparently that he was unhappy with the position of my widow's peak was unnecessary. So, when one is unhappy with the position of something, what does one do? One moves it. He moved my widow's peak! And how does one pick up a widow's peak? I can't speak for everyone but I'll tell you how he did it. He shaved it then made sure that somehow, there was a point just to the left of it formed by the six weeks' worth of growth I'd just had removed.

He moved my widow's peak. Who does that?!

It's uneven and I think I might look like I'm leaning to the left. It's very strange. Maybe he was trying to tell me something. Meanwhile, I'll rub my phantom peak in the hopes it grows back faster than it normally would.

He was nice. He looked forward to hearing about New York, a city he's never been to but wants to visit quite badly.