Jeff's Not Unique: Part I

“Was that faux hawk intentional?”

He reddened to the roots of his meticulously styled hair at her cutting remark. He turned on his heels and looked into the freshly polished, full length mirror. “Oh, hell no…I don’t like how the lady cut my hair this time.” He quickly drew the palms of his hands over the piecey tips, destroying the central precipice that just an hour before he’d taken so much pleasure in constructing. “I didn’t tip her.” He let ring a nervous laugh through his chapped lips. Lips that had a lot of potential, he thought, but they were often chapped. One too many times had he left his blistex in the fifth pocket of his jeans and run them through the dryer. That’s how he had ruined his favorite tank top.

He took two smooth steps past the shoe rack and into the small bathroom. He turned the faucet on and began washing the sticky hair product from his hands.

He leaned against the porcelain basin, staring intently into the mirror.

“I’m going to shave my head tomorrow.” he whispered.

But he knew he never would.