There are few plights in this life as mortifying as having nothing to tell your hairdresser. With an average timespan of four months between cuts, I am expected to come to each appointment with hundreds – if not thousands – of updates to keep the conversation rolling smoothly. But lately, I’ve been falling embarrassingly short. That’s why I’m determined to get a boyfriend just to finally have something exciting to tell my hairstylist.
I trust that this way, she will come to love me.
I devised this plan the last time I got a haircut, because I spent about 45 of the 60 minutes in complete silence, having nothing of note to share with my cool, hot hairdresser, Jolene. Yeah, that Jolene. And let me tell you, the name suits her.
As I left the hairdressing chair with a new lease on life via haircut, I also left it with a much worse opinion of myself, considering I had nothing fun to share with Jolene. Was I not interesting? Could I not entertain her for even an hour? Things had to change. I had to get a fucking boyfriend. Am I straight? No. But I felt like my odds of finding a boyfriend in the four days before my next appointment were a bit higher than the alternative.
While some might approach this issue with a light, nuanced touch, I didn’t have time for that. I posted a bunch of flyers around town proudly proclaiming, “LOOKING FOR BOYFRIEND TO TELL HAIRDRESSER ABOUT.” There was no time for fucking games.
Then came step two: separating the wheat from the chaff, which is a phrase I learned from Jolene during haircut number two. God, she’s so cool.
I conducted a lengthy interview of every man that called me. Most of them sucked ass, frankly. It was mostly losers with nothing better to do than call the number on a poster seeking a boyfriend, but a few understood the plight of having nothing to tell your hairdresser and reached out as good samaritans.
At long last, I selected a man who had spent his last year hiking the Camino trail in Spain after graduating from the Yale School of Environmental Science. Jolene would love him. I could barely sleep the night before my appointment. My life was about to change.
The appointment went great, although not in the way I expected. We spent the hour talking about Jolene’s recent hip surgery, and she seemed really interested in my healing tips! I didn’t end up telling her about my hot new boyfriend, though, because it kind of never came up.
