Through My Glasses

I walked into a store today and the store owner, a young man that looked to be in his 30s couldn’t stop staring at my hair. This guy was oohing and aahing at “how well cut my hair was” and how it “brought out my true African facial features”. He loved the “natural boldness” with which I rocked my hair and wished he knew when next I was going to get a haircut so he could pay for it. Interestingly, his wife is also on a low cut. He went as far as calling her up to tell her that he was sending her a picture of a haircut she would be interested in. He said his wife enjoyed trying out different haircuts the way a professional chef enjoyed trying out recipes. I was amused at such obsession with haircuts and he said I wouldn’t understand. Of course, there was no way I would but I thanked him for all the attention, paid for what I bought and walked out of his shop. I walked into the shop next door, barely 10 steps from the previous shop and the reaction to my hair style by this s