Requiem For A Mullet

Et lux perpetua dadum da DUM et lux perpetua da dum da DUUUUM, and all that.

So yesterday I went into Chicago with the Drake and had lunch, got a haircut. I originally planned to go to the place where my protomullet was born, but as we stopped to say hi to another of our friends who works in a Lebanese restaurant in the neighborhood, he said he knew of a great cheap place to go. So he made me an appointment, and I entered Esteban's. That's right, Steven's. All systems were go, and I was very excited. I explained exactly what I wanted. Esteban had a little bit of trouble understanding, so I tried to be as explicit as possible. When we got to the protomullet, I said I wanted that hair to be the same length as the hair on top. He asked me if I wanted him to shorten it, and I said yes, since it had grown a little long, but he took that to mean to take it off completely. So it goes.

The protomullet is no more. It will take me at least a solid two months to grow it back to a noticeably decent length, and then perhaps we can try again. I'm quite upset since reviving the American mullet is a pet project of mine, and now it's dashed. I should know better than to try to revive things past. We all know how the campaign to bring back the high five went. It ended up being more annoying than anything.

The haircut is still fairly nice, though, and here's the reason that I'm not quite so upset. As you could guess, Esteban is Latino. I'm not quite sure how he knew that I speak Spanish, but the point is that he did. (I think he may have seen my ears perk up when he talked with his coworker.) So we chatted away the time in Spanish. Generally I find it hard to talk to haircutters, but I guess when you find out that you both speak Spanish, it creates something to latch onto. (How did you learn Spanish? How did you like Spain? Have you been to Mexico? etc.) It was great, and I was surprised how well I've retained it.

The Drake is now on her way back to St. Paul. It's very sad, first I said goodbye to the Hoosier Lush...now the Drake. My whiplash trip home is coming to the end of its friendphase and will soon move onto the familyphase before returning for my last stay at Camp Harvard.