Class Reunion (Part 2)
The second installment of my trip to the Class Reunion. What fun!!
Over the next week, I was an incredibly busy young man. I had much to do to prepare myself physically and mentally for this "class reunion". If I were to impress and dazzle every other guest in attendance, there was much work to do. I knew that I must go above and beyond my already fantastic sense of style and show these mongrels that I had made something of myself in the ten years since high school.
First, I went to a professional hair stylist and after violently bickering over her ridiculously high prices and tearing her magazines (intended for waiting, paying customers) to shreds, was asked to leave or else the local law enforcement would be summoned posthaste. Still desperately needing a haircut, I returned home and dug out a pair of old scissors that I frequently used for trimming my nose, armpit, and pubic hair. How hard could a haircut possibly be?
I spread a large sheet over the bathroom counter and stripped down naked, so as not to get hair on my clothing. Then I grabbed a tuft of hair between my pointer finger and thumb and proceeded to snip it off. I released the tuft, smoothed my hair down, and immediately gasped in shock.
In hindsight, choosing to start my haircut by lopping off a large chunk of hair in the very front wasn't the best decision. I stared at the massive, almost bald, spot above my widow's peak and felt the anger building in my soul. Furiously, I stormed to the kitchen, poured myself a tall juice glass of vodka to calm my nerves, and returned to the bathroom to continue.
An hour later, I stood, gazing into the mirror, tears streaming down my face. My pale, pasty scalp glistened in the dull bathroom lighting. I was kicking myself for reaching down to scratch my penis while I was trying to even up the left side of my head. I was really kicking myself for overcompensating on the right side for the grievous mistake I'd made on the left. I was absolutely irate with myself for deciding it was a good idea to just go ahead and snip my hair all the way down to the scalp. And finally, I was in tears over the fact that after I'd clipped every strand down to the skin, I, for some unknown reason, decided to take a small orange and white, single-bladed Bic Razor and go over my entire head with it. My head burned ferociously and nicks and cuts covered my scalp. I'd placed small circles of toilet paper on them, but they still insisted on bleeding profusely and burning me to the core. On the bright side, I do keep a beautiful wig stashed in the trunk of my car for just such occasions. Too bad I don't keep a fake mustache and a set of eyebrows in there too. Damn vodka...
Next, I needed to find something appropriate to wear. I scoured my closet and dug in my dresser drawers, a look of extreme distaste on my bald face. I owned almost nothing that I could possibly be seen in at an event such as the 10 year reunion.
I journeyed to the nearest mall and after inspecting all the major clothing stores, was completely enraged by how high the prices were. I wasn't able to afford anything they had to offer. I was also enraged by the fact that everywhere I walked, juveniles and even some rude adults mocked and yelled vicious insults at my bald head and face. I had even crudely drawn a set of eyebrows where my regular ones used to be with a brown magic marker before I'd left my apartment, but it was so stifling hot outside that the sweat from my bald head had caused the marker to run down my face, thus making my sketched brows useless and humiliating. As I sat in the food court, stuffing my face with frankfurters and fries, I happened to glance down the wide mall corridor and notice a costume shop. My curiosity was sparked and I leapt to my feet, attracting many laughs and taunts from fellow mall goers around me.
I entered the store and upon quick inspection, found exactly what I was looking for.
The Dracula costume I picked out was perfect. All I had to do was cut off the high-collared cape and I was left with an incredibly fashionable tuxedo. Of course, it was a one piece costume, but as long as no one inquired as to why I didn't take off the jacket, I'd be perfectly fine. My schoolmates would surely become ill with jealousy. Plus, it was priced at an unbeatable $17.50. I approached the counter and slid out my wallet.
"Hello good sir. I would like to buy this item. My high school ten year reunion is quickly approaching and I want to look my best." I explained matter-of-factly.
I paid for my outfit and walked out of the store, receiving a bizarre and confused look from the shopkeeper as I left.
First, I went to a professional hair stylist and after violently bickering over her ridiculously high prices and tearing her magazines (intended for waiting, paying customers) to shreds, was asked to leave or else the local law enforcement would be summoned posthaste. Still desperately needing a haircut, I returned home and dug out a pair of old scissors that I frequently used for trimming my nose, armpit, and pubic hair. How hard could a haircut possibly be?
I spread a large sheet over the bathroom counter and stripped down naked, so as not to get hair on my clothing. Then I grabbed a tuft of hair between my pointer finger and thumb and proceeded to snip it off. I released the tuft, smoothed my hair down, and immediately gasped in shock.
In hindsight, choosing to start my haircut by lopping off a large chunk of hair in the very front wasn't the best decision. I stared at the massive, almost bald, spot above my widow's peak and felt the anger building in my soul. Furiously, I stormed to the kitchen, poured myself a tall juice glass of vodka to calm my nerves, and returned to the bathroom to continue.
An hour later, I stood, gazing into the mirror, tears streaming down my face. My pale, pasty scalp glistened in the dull bathroom lighting. I was kicking myself for reaching down to scratch my penis while I was trying to even up the left side of my head. I was really kicking myself for overcompensating on the right side for the grievous mistake I'd made on the left. I was absolutely irate with myself for deciding it was a good idea to just go ahead and snip my hair all the way down to the scalp. And finally, I was in tears over the fact that after I'd clipped every strand down to the skin, I, for some unknown reason, decided to take a small orange and white, single-bladed Bic Razor and go over my entire head with it. My head burned ferociously and nicks and cuts covered my scalp. I'd placed small circles of toilet paper on them, but they still insisted on bleeding profusely and burning me to the core. On the bright side, I do keep a beautiful wig stashed in the trunk of my car for just such occasions. Too bad I don't keep a fake mustache and a set of eyebrows in there too. Damn vodka...
Next, I needed to find something appropriate to wear. I scoured my closet and dug in my dresser drawers, a look of extreme distaste on my bald face. I owned almost nothing that I could possibly be seen in at an event such as the 10 year reunion.
I journeyed to the nearest mall and after inspecting all the major clothing stores, was completely enraged by how high the prices were. I wasn't able to afford anything they had to offer. I was also enraged by the fact that everywhere I walked, juveniles and even some rude adults mocked and yelled vicious insults at my bald head and face. I had even crudely drawn a set of eyebrows where my regular ones used to be with a brown magic marker before I'd left my apartment, but it was so stifling hot outside that the sweat from my bald head had caused the marker to run down my face, thus making my sketched brows useless and humiliating. As I sat in the food court, stuffing my face with frankfurters and fries, I happened to glance down the wide mall corridor and notice a costume shop. My curiosity was sparked and I leapt to my feet, attracting many laughs and taunts from fellow mall goers around me.
I entered the store and upon quick inspection, found exactly what I was looking for.
The Dracula costume I picked out was perfect. All I had to do was cut off the high-collared cape and I was left with an incredibly fashionable tuxedo. Of course, it was a one piece costume, but as long as no one inquired as to why I didn't take off the jacket, I'd be perfectly fine. My schoolmates would surely become ill with jealousy. Plus, it was priced at an unbeatable $17.50. I approached the counter and slid out my wallet.
"Hello good sir. I would like to buy this item. My high school ten year reunion is quickly approaching and I want to look my best." I explained matter-of-factly.
I paid for my outfit and walked out of the store, receiving a bizarre and confused look from the shopkeeper as I left.
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