So I get done with school, and right when I get home, mom's like "HAIRCUT LOL", so without any notice, I'm hauled to the local barber's, who I haven't seen in six months. "Hello, may I help you?" the clerk asks us. "No.", I bluntly reply. "Ignore him," my mother said, "He needs a haircut, badly." "ORLY?" said the clerk. "Follow us to the back." The moment arrives; my beautiful (At least I think so. ._.) hair is about to be sliced from my scalp, and there's nothing I can do about it. Then, a glimmer of hope revealed itself to me. "How would you like it cut?" The woman asked. Now was my chance; I could tell her what my mother would want me to, or I could pull a fast one.
"1/4 inch off." I said. "OKAY LOL", said the lady. She got to work on my head ( >____> ), and before the guy next to me finished his mohawk (No, really), we were done. Mom comes over, only to display her dissatisfaction. Fully expecting I only bought time, it was to my surprise she let me get away with it. So I managed to leave almost exactly as I entered; long, shaggy hair. For once, I'm happy; and for once, I don't have to hide in my room for two weeks, waiting for my hair to grow back.
I then get home, shower, and dry my hair. Instead of plopping dead on the couch like any normal teenager would, I'm dragged to a gardening store, which I soon found out was the gathering place for every senior citizen in the state. The elderly could tell I was overjoyed to be there. "You look as enthralled as my husband!" one reanimated corpse stated (her husband right behind her, who looked as if he was contemplating suicide). I smiled and nodded, as the duo began their twenty minute voyage to the other side of the rack. Time passed, and I looked all over. No sign of a rope. I was dehydrated, and close to sunburnt. "Why?", I thought. "Why me?". To this day, I do not know. Finally, the moment of truth arrived.
As we were checking out, a strange man with a large smile crept up silently behind us. One look, and my pedo-alarm went off. If this man didn't have a penchant for pooper, I don't know who does. This guy made Michael Jackson look straight! I half-expected him to go to town right then and there! Amazingly, I escaped with my underwear intact, and made it safely home. One thing's for sure, I'm never going flower shopping again.
Oh, and I took some photos too. Comment please. :D