Macie sat with me in her car for a long while. I showed no intentions of getting out, and she dared not ask me to do so. The overly artistic hairstylist had given me a haircut that was too eccentric for my liking. At that moment, we looked at each other wordlessly as Macie fought back her laughter.
I glanced at my watch. Time was ticking, and I knew that I couldn't spend the entire night in Macie's car.
“Macie, did you do this on purpose?” I broke the silence. “Why did I get such a weird hairstyle while yours looks perfectly normal?” I scanned her hairstyle and found nothing to complain about. It looked like she received a haircut from a professional hairstylist. On the other hand, no one would believe me even if I claimed that the hairstylist's apprentice gave me a haircut. Mine looked like the hairstylist's dog had its way with my hair.
Macie started guffawing uncontrollably. When she finally calmed down, she told me, “Erica, it's not that your haircut is ugly. Ordinary people won't be able to appreciate it. Augustus might be inconsiderate, but he's an artistic man. He might love your bowl cut! I have a point, right?” she put on a serious face and stated. After that, she reached out to tidy my hair and tucked a strand of it behind my ear. However, it slid back into place almost immediately.
I flipped the sun visor down and glanced at the vanity mirror to study my new hairstyle. Macie was right. It was a ridiculous bowl cut. The hairstylist didn't even ask for my opinion before he gave me that haircut. I didn't even get to mourn the loss of my long hair as he proceeded to dye my hair purple. There was no mistaking my shocked gasp when I saw his so-called masterpiece. Seeing my reaction, the hairstylist folded his arms crossly and insisted that it was art.
I was so livid that it took every ounce of my self-control to stop myself from demanding, “Why didn't you get the same haircut, then?”