i_got_a_dadaist_haircut epitome of incomprehensibility Okay, so the haircut itself is mildly punk-rock. Short on the left side, chin-length on the right, parted diagonally across my face. It doesn't really matter, though - it's all about the process. About two and a half weeks ago, there was an event in Montreal called Nuit Blanche where lots of things are open late at night or all night. I called one of my friends, hoping to tag along with her other friends, and soon we all were walking in the wind along St. Laurent. We found some free hot chocolate and tiny ice cream cones, board games, and things of that sort, but J. wanted to check out this haircut place called Coupe Bizarre that was reputed to give out free haircuts. Inside, curious people were directed to take popsicle-stick signs with black-and-white pictures of men with different haircuts. Each had two numbers. J. stuck two of them in her hair, which is nice and curly. I carried mine in my hand like a boring person. In the front was a sort of stage. Loud music started blaring from the speakers. At first it was (what I decided was) dubstep. The hairdressers, dressed in surreal costumes - one had a mask of what looked like deer antlers, another some sort of bone to which a white veil was attached - paraded around the room, making scissor-snipping motions with their fingers. Then opera music blared and this woman with red lipstick and a wide-brimmed cone hat, very Orientalist & Madame Butterfly-ish, started singing along in a really nice soprano voice. Afterwards the tallest hairdresser went around deciding who would be chosen. She was very tall. (I couldn't tell her gender from her voice, but I've decided "she" is my default pronoun. Besides, she was wearing a feminine wig.) She had a yardstick, and she was going around rejecting people for the first haircut because they were too tall or short. She decided J.'s arm was too short - I think because her hair was curly and harder to cut, which disappointed me because I knew J. thought having a haircut would be fun - but then she walked up to me, measured my arm, and said "You realize we can do whatever we want with your hair, don't you?" and I nodded yes. Another person was picked and new music started. It was like a mix between dubstep and French cabaret. I sat in a chair with a smock thing over my shoulders, on this little stage, and then I felt something being lowered over my head. It was a cardboard sheet with a half-circle in the centre. Soon I realized what was happening: two different people were cutting my hair, one on the left and one on the right, and they couldn't see what each other were doing. I sat in the chair, music pounding around me, and I thought I might be worried. Then I decided I wouldn't worry - simply because I'd panicked before in situations that didn't warrant panicking, and since people might expect me to worry now, I wouldn't. Soon the cardboard was taken away, and the person on the right side of my head where the hair was longer combed the whole thing together with a little hairspray. I got down rather awkwardly and found my bag and coat. Oh yes, and I watched J. have a staring contest with the woman in the white veil while K. her boyfriend took pictures and other people got other haircuts. So, some interesting publicity for/from the haircut place, and a semi-dadaist experience for me. 130321 ... tender square i sort of had a haircut like this when i was 24, though my story is not nearly as interesting as yours—you are brave! i went to a barbershop and had them shave half my head into some kind of faded design, and kept the other side as a chin-length bob. not exactly dadaist, but something different that's for sure. (your haircut was too cool for that publishing house in fired) 210910 ... e_o_i Ha, thanks! And that sounds like fun. As for the publisher, let's go with that :) (I DID fail to catch "lawyer" spelled "laywer" when the mock-up for a book's front & back cover was already done, which cost them at least a few dollars, because they printed several copies...but then so did the two other proofreaders, so I dunno. Mysteries.) 210910 what's it to you? who go blather from