"It really isn’t that bad” my mom said, her expression slightly twisted and her eyes full of sadness. I went into the bathroom and peered into the mirror. Tears began to leak from my eyes leaving long black trails of mascara down my cheeks. I watched the redness in my eyes disperse like ink and watched the black mascara trails slowly settle into the crease of my mouth. I was ugly.
The day before, I was so exited to make an appointment to get my hair cut. I spent time looking through magazines for the perfect hairstyle, and decided on a medium length bob. It wouldn’t be a drastic change, but it would be enough to make me feel good. When I arrived at the salon and sat in the chair, a well dressed, chubby man introduced himself. “Hi. You must be Tiffany” he said with a lisp. “I’m Shannon.” He said Shannon with too much energy and he quickly began to remind me of a yappy Chihuahua. I wanted him to shut up. “Oh—my—gosh! This is my favorite haircut to do!” he said as I showed him the picture. He clapped his hands furiously. “And it is SO in style right now.” He anxiously grabbed a chunk of hair and began cutting away. He talked about everything, including his Indian boyfriend, how Brad Pitt looks like a monkey, his striped shirt fetish, and how he was convinced that Jennifer Anniston was his long lost sister. "I mean, look at the eyes" he said confidently." and the shape of our mouths." I smiled weakly and tried to look interested. "I just know that me and Jen are related somehow."
I began to see more and more hair fall around me, but I wasn’t worried. Shannon seemed like a hair stylist that would work in Los Angeles, drink Starbucks for breakfast, and carry around a tiny dog named Muffin. He made me feel like an important client and asked me every few minutes or so if I wanted anything to drink. “wine? Juice? Water? Are you sure I can’t get you anything?” I politely declined and eagerly waited to see my new haircut. "Oh my gosh!" Shannon said as he unhooked the gray cape from around my neck. "It turned out so good! You look just like Courtney Cox!"
When he turned my chair towards the mirror, Courtney Cox did not stare back at me. Instead, an unfamiliar face full of dissapointment caught me off guard. Oh my goodness, I thought. I have a mullet. Not only did I have a mullet, but Shannon had gotten my hair so straight and so thin that I looked like some sort of baby bird. Better yet, I looked like a baby bird with the bird flu. There were patches missing here, strands cut out there, and little wispy pieces that stuck up in every direction. The front was cut short, to the top of my ears, while the back hung delicately around my shoulders. “Okay! All done!” he squealed as I stared blankly into the mirror at my Billy Ray Cyrus haircut. “How do you like it?” His face looked pleased. I smiled as politely as I could and forced a meek nod. I then got up quickly, said thank you, paid, and left. I was mortified. I didn’t even want to walk to my car in fear that someone might see me and my mullet.
For the next five months, I tried to hide my mullet in a ponytail, holding the short pieces into place with bobby pins. Looking in the mirror left me full of heartbreak and resentment. I was ashamed of my new look, I had a hard time fitting in at social gatherings, and I no longer laughed at the mullet jokes that i once enjoyed.
I am pleased to say that I have been mullet-free for two years and I have almost fully recovered from the traumatizing events of that day. Although I still get a little nervous around scissors, and I often find myself uncomfortable around people with mullets, I am slowly coping with these issues. As for Shannon, I hope he is bald.
some all-time favorite mullets:
AC Slater
Joe Dirt
Patrick Swayze
Monster
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