Keene went missing a few months ago, after he decided to grow his hair out. We couldn't find him anywhere. We searched his usual haunts: the bathroom, in the field looking for snakes, at his computer. No dice. However, we weren't sad because a shaggy-haired, headband-wearing guy filled in nicely for him.
But last night, Keene unexpectedly returned. He didn't say where he had been these long months. I didn't question him much, as I didn't want to scare him into hiding again.
He had been joking for a couple weeks that he was going to let me cut his hair. But then he'd wimp out and say he'll just keep growing it out. He is weird about paying $15 for a haircut from Fantastic Sam's or an equally cost-efficient place. He'd rather pay $40 for a good salon cut. But he doesn't like to spend money on frivolous things like a $40 haircut. See the dilemma? I said, "If you won't pay $15 for a haircut because you think they would do a bad job, why in the world would you let me cut your hair?" He said, "Because it's free!"
After watching a short internet video on "How to Cut Your Man's Hair," I felt confident enough to do it. I pulled and snipped and walked in circles around him and snipped some more.
An hour later, I finally finished.
Keene looked in the mirror and said, "That's really short..." I said yes. He turned his head, tugged at the hair. I gushed, "I really like it!" He tugged some more and said, "So you think we should just shave it?"
All hopes of becoming a hairstylist. Gone. On the floor with the three pounds of clipped hair.
(I don't actually want to be a hairstylist. I was still disappointed, though. I thought I had done a brilliant job of cutting.)
I tried my damnedest to squeeze a compliment from him. "Is it even? That sure took a long time, eh? Anything you want me to fix?" He turned from side to side and said, "Well, at least it was free."