The thick and dizzying smell of the Salon gave me a slight ache in the back of my skull as I sat in the waiting area, reading a magazine. Appointments were getting easier and easier to come by now that it was summer. In the summer months, lots of guys took flight to the barbershop next door, or took to cutting their hair themselves This June afternoon was no exception.

Two women and a man only slightly older than I was were in the salon at the moment, but my stylist was nowhere in sight. After several minutes of waiting, a voice jolted me out of Entertainment Weekly.

"Ethan, is it? Stacey isn’t here today, she called in sick. Did you want to reschedule -- or I could take you if you want." The young woman peered down to my seat curiously.

"Um, I kind of needed to consult with her today but I guess it’s not a problem." I dropped my magazine to the side and took a seat in the chair next to the window while trying to think if I had ever seen this woman in the shop before.

"In case you were wondering, I’m new. My name’s Elanore. So what are we going to do here today?"

I hadn’t prepared what I was going to say, so just started blurting out my story. "I don’t know what to do anymore." I brushed my 5 inch locks out from my eyes and back across my head. "It's this dandruff. It’s been pretty bad recently and I’ve been thinking that I might just have to shave all my hair off," I said somewhat sarcastically.

I couldn’t hear what she was doing behind me and couldn’t see because the chair was all cock-eyed, so I paused for a moment to let her catch up.

"Hmm, let’s take a look here," as she started to survey the inner layers of my scalp with a thin comb. "There’s definitely a ton of dry skin under here."

Elanore apparently backed away and started fiddling with her instruments.

I didn’t even have time to prepare. Before I knew it the clippers clicked into action and drove a path down the top of my coifed head. The layered hair rose from the scalp as the clippers touched the surface, pushing their way back. It mounted more and more before falling onto my back shoulder. With that, I jerked my head to my side and glared at her in shock.

"Oh no, don’t even tell me you weren’t serious." Elanore struck first from the panicked reaction on my face. "I thought that’s what you wanted. Why else would you mention it?"

After that I didn’t hear much, just a lot of apologizing. I thought of what to do or say but nothing came to my naked mind. The chair was positioned better so I could see the light reflecting off the stubbly center of my head, reduced to a #2.

Ashamed, I sank lower into the chair and instructed her to finish up the job, as there wasn't much choice in the matter now. She continued her apologies, even offering the cut free of charge.

Mounting mounds of heavy black hair bounced on the lap of my cape as the finishing rounds of the clippers passed. The cooling vents from above shivered my spine as it touched the unveiled skin.

"I can’t believe I did something stupid like shaved my hea…." I stopped dead in my tracks when a male hairdresser rounded the corner, making eye contact in the large mirror ahead. It was just like that Head and Shoulders commercial. The painful irony of that moment made me feel even worse than being crewed.

Elanore shook the cape free from my neck and mishandled a corner of it, spilling tufts of jet-black hairs onto my white oxford shirt. Another mark for the humiliation. I stood and left the salon without a word, having to pass the barber on my way to my car, where a similar situation was occurring, only willingly.

In the salon, the crewcut appeared drastic and uncharacteristic but the more and more I glanced at it throughout the day, the more it "grew" on me.

Two weeks later, as I parked the car in front of the salon to get the same haircut, I noticed Elanore manning the front desk. We locked eyes for a moment before she looked away in embarrassment, knowing I would be coming in. I gave her a quick smile and kept walking, grasping for the barbershop door handle.

Half an hour later I left the shop with a shorter #1 buzzcut and made a quick stop to the salon. Elanore jolted up.

"Omigod, listen, I…."

"Don’t worry about it. And thanks for messing up!" I ran my hand from front to back of my fresh buzz and threw on my Oakley sunglasses. Lowering my head, I checked my shoulders.There wasn't a hint of flakiness in sight.