“To this day, my haircut is the number two clippers, which I apply to myself every month.”
– Henry Rollins
Two weekends ago I decided to get a mullhawk. I took my clippers, walked into my bathroom, and buzzed all the hair off the sides of my head. After I swept up, I put on a ridiculous outfit and went out for the night.
All night people continually assumed that I was either super wealthy or a celebrity. I told people I was a boxer, which is true, and they kept assuming that I was some kind of professional athlete. A drunk Brazilian girl was convinced that she had seen me on television. Needless to say I ended up having a blast.
While my mullhawk was well received in most places, it still caught a lot of flack. At least two dozen people have called called me “Christy Mack,” a weird redneck tried to fight me, and a girl who I went on a date with got mad about my hair.
I laughed every Christy Mack joke I heard. I actually thought it was pretty funny and started using the line when people asked why I decided to get my haircut.
After the weird redneck guy tried to fight me, I laughed as well. The guy was a squat and dumpy gremlin. Why would I even care what he thought?
I also didn’t care when my date got upset about my hair. If a girl gets upset over something as minor as a haircut, she’s going to be difficult to get along with. While there are some exceptions to this rule, I didn’t think this girl was one of them. I ended up walking out on our date and going to hang out with my friends instead.
While my mullhawk got a lot of mixed reactions, I enjoyed it. The people I’d want to associate with thought that it was cool, and the people I wouldn’t want to be around were repulsed.