My not-so-(FREE) Haircut

A few years back I worked at a restaurant in the West Village, all sorts of characters came in. One night this very drunk and boisterously gay older gentlemen tells me my hair looks like shit and I acknowledge that he is correct and as he drinks more and as I have to walk him to a cab, he informs me he is one of the top stylist in the city and he wants to cut my hair, for free tomorrow at his HOUSE! Appeasing a drunkard I take him number and go back to work.

The next morning I'm curious and need a haircut, I'll try anything once. He tells me to head over to his house. Safety first, I call the salon he works at to make sure he's legit, give the address to my roommates so they know what to tell the police if I never return, and head out the door.

The second I walk into that place I am overwhelmed by the smell (dog pee) and the amount of framed photos of this man with Elizabeth Taylor, Dame Judi Dench, Bebe Neuworth...turns out this man was the Belle of the Gay ball for years, Mrs. Drag Queen 1965-75, Mrs. Stonewall himself, now the fallen and loneliest man in the city. All his best friends died, abandoned or cheated on him and left him with nothing but sour memories and lots of dog piss.

After a quick tour of the small over crowded apartment he takes me to the back room, sits me in a chair in front of a painting of Abe Lincoln getting a lap dance from Marilyn Monroe and before anything is said, he starts chopping. Can't do anything now but wait for the outcome. He suddenly starts folding foil into my hair, "You can tell everyone your hair got sunkissed in the Hamptons, just say, "Silly me, I forgot my hat when I went boating this past weekend." He pulls his hand up to his face in a bashful giggle, I nod, I think he might be crazy.

The foil sitting in my hair, the dye setting, he looks at me and smiles. He pulls me to a giant closet and flings the doors open, at first I think I'm looking at the remains of hundreds of dead muppets, but as my eyes adjust to the sparkling lights shimmering off the glitter, I realize it's 20 years of drag staring me in the face. "I haven't been able to wear these in years, what size are you?" Before I know it this man has me in glittering feathered drag queen hell, modeling his dresses so he can reminisce every moment in his past life. Ding, my hair is done, thank god!

After a quick blow dry my hair is AMAZING! Hands down one of the best haircuts and colors I have ever gotten, thank god, cause it really could have gone both ways. Before I can finish looking in the mirror he has whisked me away to the living room sat me on the couch and begun to sing me opera. 45 minuets later he is still singing me opera and I am still giving him standing ovations and bravos, this is painful, really really painful. A little while later he looks at his watch and realizes how late it has gotten, "Look at the Time!" No shit, I've been looking for the last hour I am thinking, but instead I give him a kiss on both cheeks and swiftly exit the house.

I'm smiling at all the craziness that just happened to me, and the beautiful haircut I just received and though I might not have paid money to that man, I surely paid for that haircut.

crazy man's haircut from a few years back