The hair salon is a scary place. Ever since many years ago I had stepped into some random salon and turned my hair into a disaster, I had developed a phobia of visiting salons. From then on, my hair was only managed by a trusty old barber located in my humble neighbourhood hawker centre.
He was safe and he made my hair decent, short and neat. Nothing spectacular, just safe. I dreaded anything new from then on, and always opted for the safe option.
That was why today I felt so nervous when I stepped into a hair salon again. It took a great deal for me to make this decision. Not with much persuasion from Howard who ensured me that everything was going to be fine. I had wanted to try something new because my hair was really growing to a crappy mess and very uncomfortable. I needed some sort of distraction...from the stress I was facing..and even if the experience turned out bad, it would be something 'refreshing'.
I also figured it had grown sufficiently long to allow an extent of creativity and a risk had to be taken if I didn't want to look like an uncle anymore.
Let's just say it turned out better than expected.
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