How to cut a mullet.

Meet Jake. A nice, charming young man...with a raging mullet. He's been grooming that thing for more than half of the time I've known him. The three of us are very happy together, as you can see.



I don't think the mullet had anything to do with his upbringing - his parents seem totally normal.



(PAUSE)

Ok. To be honest - and I'm telling you this in complete confidence - I've seen photos of his dad with a mullet in his younger years. It's possible it could be a role model/nurture thing. But I don't want to point fingers and so I'm pretending this is simply a coincidence and doesn't imply that Jake will also go through a pretty serious mustache phase in the future.

Anyway, there was a lovely little party for Jake's 30th and, more importantly, the cutting of the mullet. A nice crowd gathered to celebrate.





I got to take the first cut. I was honestly nervous - I had forgotten what he looked like sans-mullet and was a little frightened that I'd find myself thinking the unimaginable: "I want the mullet back." What if, after all this time, I was meant to love a mulleted American?! (Clearly I warmed up pretty quickly - look at that smile in the last one!)



Melissa (the pro cutter who took over the scissors almost immediately after witnessing my excessive emotions) did a great job. There were so many people there taking photos and video that I imagine it was like cutting Britney's hair, except without a razor or real paparazzi.





Well, RIP BIFPIB (Business in front, party in back), I guess. And happy 30th, Jake.




Oh - and great news- it's clear that I had nothing to worry about. I'm not abnormally attracted to mullets after all. (HELLO non-mulleted Jake...)