Joan of Arc....NOT!

A Dollar’s Worth

By Alisa Dollar

I got my hair cut with a picture of Jamie Lee Curtis going in and came out looking like Joan of Arc.

If I were Joan I’d be happy because she wasn’t old and lardy. She was young and lordy.

A woman of passion, belief, ready to die for all.

I was only dying to mimic Jamie Lee Curtis’ look.

This guy had cut my hair once.

He really likes to chat. The first time I had on my “Be careful what you say or you’ll end up in my novel” t-shirt. He asked if I was a writer.

I’m sure all of Frankston’s ears were burning as I told him I had a weekly column in your paper. He asked me if it was hard to think of things to write since it is a slice-of-life column.

I told him no because a slice of my life is a genuinely klutzy, curious person. I’d gotten myself into many things in my lifetime and seem to still manage a few in my golden years.

I told him I had a lot of stories I couldn’t write because the owner of the paper said they weren’t for human consumption. Okay, maybe he said they were a little more than he wanted printed in a local newspaper owned by him.

He did say they were funny though.

Whatever.

This time I had on a Texas Tech t-shirt representing the student chapter of the American Society for Civil Engineers.

He asked if I was an engineer. This was before whipping out Jamie Lee Curtis’ picture and told him I wanted to look like her.

After snorting laughter, I asked if I looked like an engineer, to which he replied, I’m not sure what an engineer is supposed to look like.

“An engineer doesn’t look like me. I do their money.” After thinking about that, I added, “Which might of greater concern.”

While he clipped, we talked about Facebook people posting minute by minute happenings.

I put on my glasses, gasped, and remarked how short my hair had become.

“I thought you wanted to look like Jamie Lee Curtis.”

I so wanted to run home and put this on Facebook.

Instead, I wrote an article.

Apparently he didn’t remember the first t-shirt I’d worn.

He will when I take the paper in to him.

Moral?

Hair grows back.