968. the best part about hair that grows

the best part about hair that grows is that it has to get cut, eventually.
and that means you have to find someone to cut it.
and right after a dentist and before a car mechanic, the haircutter is the most sacred bond i have that's not of the marriage or domestic partner sort.
a bad haircut is the equivalent of a flapping dry nostril booger atop the head.
you just can't take your eye off it, and for all the wrong reasons.
a good haircut is tantamount to self-confidence, making the haircutter relationship as important as any one can have.

this is the story about such a hair relationship.

upon my return to new jersey many moons ago and after three years in phoenix, i found dexter.
i was a walk-in to a hoity toity joint in an upscale mall.
he was great.
fabulous hair-cuts and boy did he give me a lot of attention.
it didn't take long for the sacred bond to be created.
things were moving along swimmingly too.
that is until dexter suggested we go out for drinks at a cabaret, which to my way of thinking was stressing the bondy part a little too much for my liking.
i guess i was sending out same sex vibes, but i think it's just my affable nature getting all misconstrued.
that's happened a few times, if the truth be told.
sooo ... i told him okay but only if my girl friend could join us which was pretty bold since she wasn't within thirty miles of the joint at the time and i'd have to convince a female stranger in the mall to play the part.
he was visibly crushed (can you blame him) and fortunately dropped the offer.
but the sacred bond was never the same.
soon, we decided it best to go our separate ways.
alas, i entered the long, lonely process of beginning a new sacred bond.

two years to be exact.
painful ones at that, bouncing from barbershops to two bit haircut factories, only to find emptiness at the end of dull scissor blades and the bottom of a bottle of blue comb anticeptic.
but i would persist.
and in my lowliest hour, i struck gold.

desperate for a decent haircut and to reclaim my heterosexualness, i decided to change course and give a female hairdresser a whirl.
not that my hair needs dressing.
it just needs cutting.
but this concept of the hair dress was untapped and i was lowly if you recall.
a little walk through the local yellow pages and there she was, just a hop, skip and jump away.

i found june of june and company in 1987.
june runs a small salon in a tiny rented house amid a hodgepodge of little town shops and worn out strip malls.
quaint is a word that comes to mind, much like her patrons.
actually, i'd call her clientele rustic, like fluffy blue hair rustic.
it's the kind of place in which i immediately felt young and vibrant.
and they loved my material.
it's not every day that mature women preparing to contact venus with their hair dressed up in tin foil, rods and oil paints under mind meld domes can carry on in witty conversation with the likes of a virile, dashing young man such as myself.
it gives them cause to enjoy the rest of their eighties.
and as for me, it simply confirms that the kid still has his mojo, contrary to whatever keaton might think.

now let me say this right up front, june was a slippery pete of sorts.
after the first hair cut, she massaged my head and shoulders for a good five minutes.
dexter did that a little too but i thought he was just fastidious about how my shirt sat upon my shoulders.
this was different.
being in the state of mind i was in (i.e., confirming my sexual proclivity), i have to say, i ... i ... well i got a little aroused.
not full blown or nothing, but there was definitely twitching amidst.
and it was just the sign i was looking for!
a new sacred bond was established, albeit still a little more bondy than sacred but at least every one was on the right team.
oh yeah, the haircut was pretty good too, i think.

and that was that.
i have been going to her ever since.
over twenty years and only one breach of the sacred bond.
i was desperate, she was on vacation, so her salon partner cut my hair in the pinch.
i learned quickly that an in the pinch replacement is a no-no in the salon constitution of sacred bonds.
there was bad karma there for a while resulting in a few suspect cuts to my ears, nothing some iodine and snoopy band-aids wouldn't repair.
but a sacred bond is a sacred bond and it all sorted itself out in about three years.

oh yeah before i forget, you know that massage?
there was only one.
it was her male patron, sacred bond creation technique ("the old head and shoulders" in salon parlance).
i know this to be true because i have it on good sources that other guys had the same experience.
now that's some slippery salon shenanigans alright.
but hey, men are simple creatures who get what they deserve.
good for her.

yeah, june.
she is like a sister really.
been through marriages, kids, divorces and new relationships together.
now my son goes to one of her young hairdressers.
it's a family affair really.
and one of these days i'm going to write about the joint.

yeah ... soooo ... that's the best part about hair that grows.