My friend Erik said that if I’m going to really settle down at Manila, I have to get a haircut.  It’s not the first time somebody told me to cut my hair: just about everybody tells me that I have to get a haircut one way or another.  Here are some of their best reasons:

  • Employers are reluctant to hire long-haired men, on the assumption that they are either drug addicts or government rebels;
  • The weather is often too hot that long hair is impractical;
  • Nearsighted people and convenience store cashiers often mistake me for a flat-chested woman, and;
  • I look better with shorter hair.

   I couldn’t really make a good defense for having long hair, so I decided to have a haircut today: my first haircut in over two years.  It cost me P190 and small talk with an openly gay hairdresser.  It is, after all, Chinese New Year: one should enter the new year with a fresh outlook and some much-needed changes.

   I don’t know about the feng shui of haircuts, but I was quite disappointed looking at how much of my hair was cut out by the hairdresser.  Worse, almost every customer was looking at me with those sick smiles on their faces.  I think it was a slow day for business: I entered the salon with hair over a foot long, and ended up with a completely different hairdo.  To use the term loosely, it was revolution on my scalp.

   Kung hei fat choi!