Schizophrenic Girlfriends Aren't That Bad

I lie to the women who cut my hair.

And I don't think there is anything wrong with that.

For full effect download "Wonderful Tonight" by Eric Clapton and play at maximum volume throughout he duration of this post.

The shallow relationship that exists between a single man and the woman cutting his hair is something of absolute beauty. You spill your guts while she shaves your neck and after twenty minutes of interpersonal disposal, both of you forget any single speck about the other and move on in your separate lives. It's like the relationship you have with a stranger on a red-eye flight to Boise. Except with scissors.

The following conversation took place this afternoon as a lovely mother of two named, oh let's see, what shall I make her alias, Shirley? Yeah, lets go with that, gave me one of the most terrific haircuts I've had in a few weeks, meanwhile I told one of the most elaborate fibs known to all story tellers. By the way Ashlee, don't get jealous, my heart still resides at Varsity Cuts.

Shirley: "So are you from around here?"

Swamp Thing: "Actually no, I just moved down here to Utah yesterday, came all the way from Toronto."

Shirley: "Canada eh? (accidental pun not intended) Well what brought you down here?"

Swamp Thing: "Well, it's a long story, but lets just say this. You know that Manti Te'o dude who got duped by thinking he dated a girl online, when she actually didn't exist?"

Shirley: "Oh yeah, I heard about that."

Swamp Thing: "Yeah, well that same thing happened to this guy. And so now, I'm living out of a U-Haul in a place called Bounteeful. Is that how you pronounce it?"

Shirley: "Wait, so you moved all the way out here from Toronto because you thought the girl of your dreams lived here, and then when you got here, she wasn't real?"

Cue nodding of head.

Shirley: "Oh my gosh, that must have been..."

Swamp Thing: "Heartless, cruel, disturbing, yeah, pick whatever word you want to fill in the blank."

Shirley: "I'm so sorry."

Swamp Thing: ""It's just been so...so..." (I'd like to thank the Academy for this award) "Tough... But I'll be fine. Maybe I'll go back to my old girlfriend Stella. With her problems and all."

Shirley: "Problems?"

Swamp Thing: "Yeah, she was kind of...well...different. To say the least. Have you ever dated a schizophrenic before?"

Shirley: "A schizo...?"

Swamp Thing: "Phrenic. Someone with multiple personalities?"

Shirley: "Not that I can recall."

Swamp Thing: "It's a pain taking them out to dinner. You're sitting there talking about what you want to order, and then you hear them have an open debate with themselves about why they don't like the color blue."

Shirley: "I...uh..."

Swamp Thing: "Seriously, one of her personalities was a raging alcoholic, and the other was a devout born-again Christian, and used to yell at herself for hours complaining that her drunk self was breaking her other self's moral code. Do you know how hard it is to break up a fight between two people living in one body?"

Shirley: "Umm...I've...uh..."

Swamp Thing: "It's worse than trying to shut up your conjoined twin. And trust me, I've had plenty of those fights before."

Shirley: "You used to have a..."

Swamp Thing: "Conjoined twin? Yeah, his name was Ronald, and we shared the same liver. And man when that kid started yapping his mouth, he would jab on for hours and hours. I'll admit, it wasn't the worst day when he accidentally got hit by a bus."

Shirley: "Accidentally?"

Swamp Thing: "Yeah, accidentally." I said winking at her.

It was at this point when Shirley put down her razor and dusted me off ready to kick my shaved head out of Great Clips so she wouldn't be the next victim of a conjoined twin murderer living out of a U-Haul who dated a schizophrenic. In her eyes, I was one of the craziest people she had ever trimmed, and the alarm on her face said it all as I signed the receipt.

The best part about this entire story is that none of this is true. Not a single shred. The only lie I told to Shirley today was when she asked where I'm from. I of course told her St. George when in reality I'm from Roy. Who would ever proudly claim Roy? Not this guy. I'm just bored silly on a Tuesday night and thought I would make you wet your pants a little laughing at one of the most elaborate concoctions never to happen.

Enjoy.