“Your hair looks great, by the way, the way the pieces stick out. Great look.”
That period after a new haircut is usually quite ego-boosting because other women are basically obligated to tell you how great you look. Oddly, though, this particular compliment was coming from my very masculine neighbor, Motorcycle Mike, who was calling to me in the parking lot.
It was a pretty drastic cut–8 or so inches off, up to my chin, after years of wearing it long–but I was astonished that this person I occasionally chit-chat with even noticed. Just about every woman I encountered for more than 10 seconds had told me I look wonderful, but only one other man outside of the salon had said anything. Neither my father nor my grandfather had said one word about it in the multiple times they had seen me. Once, my grandfather did ask while we were Facetiming, “What’s wrong with your hair?”