I’ve been seeing you for two years now without complaint. I came to you after I ended my three year relationship with Anthony and his inconsistent ways. He was much cheaper but you know me—I need complete satisfaction. You were so green when I first started seeing you, with your wide availability and barely-visible corner space, but you kept introducing new techniques that made me feel good about coming back for more.
This past weekend I noticed you had three stations, an entire row. They are not going to give you all that space and not raise your price, so I mentally lubed up my ass for the pounding it was about to receive. Sure enough, the price came to $50. With $12 tip on top of that, you now cost the same amount as a weekend date that ends in sex. I went out that night and girls made fun of me, telling me their haircuts cost less than mine. It’s not your fault, but I’ve lost all my alpha male credibility. I felt so beta the next day that I bought a couple Armani Exchange shirts and some steroids from the internet. Therefore I don’t think I can see you again—professionally, anyway. You’ve always liked my hair long so I think I will try your advice and be a ponytail guy like Choco from Domino. Don’t worry, I’ll let a couple strands hang on my face like you said. I’ll stop by soon because you know I like checking out all your coworkers.
With big love,