In defense of the fauxhawk

When I first arrived at this fine institution, I had long, shaggy hair and a hat. Mindful that first impressions were everything, after just a few weeks I went to the nearest barber and had everything shorn off, spare a tuft in the middle. Of course, to all of my college friends, this seemed drastic, a higher education-induced means to find myself after being lost for a few long weeks.

This was not the case.

Pan to mid-July. As I sat and read a book on my brand new kindle that I had received as a graduation present, my mind began warping and twisting. Thoughts raced and despite all my best mental efforts, I was easing into an existential crisis. At first I thought it would only last a few hours, but after realizing just how vivid my thoughts had been, and just how hard my stomach had dropped, settled into the miserable thought that I may be this way for a long, long time. And I was.

For the rest of July and almost all of August, few things seemed real or necessary; I kinda just stood miserable in my uniform for a while, wishing I were dead and simultaneously wishing I would live forever.

In this search for meaning, I “realized” that nothing especially mattered and to symbolize that, I asked my barber to cut my hair into a fauxhawk. It wasn’t because I thought it looked good- it was an act of exaggerated, depressed and ironic despair. So frustrated with life, I wanted my barber to cut me the ugliest haircut I could think of. I wanted sleazy hair, as insincere as possible to signify just how meaningless I thought my existence was.

Time moved on, I got excited for college, my fauxhawk got too long to put up with gel, and I slowly eased out of those terrible thoughts. However, one issue remained.

With a fauxhawk, I kind of looked… good.

When I got to work droopy eyed and miserable that day in July, I received more compliments on my appearance than I had ever received in my life. Every single waiter, waitress and busboy told me that they liked my hair. Every one.

So to be honest, I could have kept my hair long and shaggy and it wouldn’t have especially mattered, but both fortunately and unfortunately, and despite any meaning I had originally given my drastic new haircut, it simply looks better this way.

-Ryan