Assault.
Assault on everyone who’s ever been lucky enough to have their mother’s father’s hairline. I’ve been told you get your hairline from your mom’s dad. Is it true? I don’t know. But I’m one of the lucky ones so I’ll run with it. A ton of my friends have hairlines like Flo Rida. You could surf on those waves.
I’ve got the hair like Adrien Brody.
Sick brag huh? Don’t be jealous because I’ve been blessed by the gods and you’re fighting for your life to not shampoo because you’re scared to delete hair follicles. Some of us have the athleticism of Michael Jordan. Some of us have the hairline of Michael Jordan. I shed hair like a golden retriever, but it just always seems to replace itself like Wolverine regenerating muscle tissue.
What I never thought though is I’d be in a pandemic with no lifeline to cut my hair. A little backstory…
I actually got my haircut the day before non-essential businesses were rendered useless in Philly. Good job by me. It was a Supercuts. Though I don’t haircut shame, I’m not a big Supercuts guy. Shoutout to the guys at Groom Philly on Locust street who offer you Miller High Life’s every cut even if it’s like 8am on a Tuesday. Anyway that was almost a month ago and by the time a month goes by I’m in need of another cut. I’m going to look like the Unabomber by the time this quarantine is over. People are going to be crossing the street not because I have Corona, but because it looks like Charles Manson is prancing around Fairmount.
The Chosens shouldn’t be subjected to this kind of torture just because our genes are strong. I was responsible and asked the barbers to do some scissors on the top, and a 3 on the side. My high maintenance ass only asks that I can push it to the right side with some gel by the end of the haircut. That’s not too much to ask is it? I shouldn’t be shamed for being blessed by Follicles – the god of hair.
