Edward Scissorhands

I have discovered that not all gay men are cut out to be hair stylists.

My best friend is a high school choir director and has been working feverishly on his show choir's spring show. It's all girls so it's a very diva-tastic affair, complete with wigs and dresses and pageantry.

Last week, he called and told me that he needed help styling a wig. When he came over, he told me that he had a long haired wig that needed to be transformed into a Thoroughly Modern Millie style bob. The way I was helping was to wear the wig on my head while he chopped it up. So I did the dutiful friend thing and tucked my hair under the wig while he cut.

He had the wig looking pretty good, at least by what I could see in the porch window of the balcony. The wig was the same color as my hair, so it was fun to see me with short hair and bangs.

Yes. Bangs.

When he was done, I went into the bathroom to inspect it in a real mirror and the bangs section was looking kind of strange so I leaned in closer to the mirror and OH MY GOD THAT IS MY REAL HAIR.

In the quest for wig bangs and in his vigorous brushing of the wig, a portion of my real bangs somehow escaped the confine of the wig cap and got sliced off. There is now a quarter of my bangs that are shorter than the rest. Luckily they're easily hidden in the underbrush and are off to the side. And luckily my friend couldn't hear the obscenities I yelled at him over the sound of his laughter. He was very amused with the situation.

At least the wig looks good.