Ode to the Duck Tail

I'm sick, bored and banned from ever leaving this house again, so as not to spread my germs. I would, however, like to take this opportunity to thank the lady that came in to my office on Thursday and coughed on me. Good move, passing on disease. Haven't you ever heard of a telephone??? Just call me next time! So anyway, as I was saying, being that I'm ever so bored, I've decided that today will be story day. One time in a land far far away...no just kidding.
When Kevin and I first got married, we lived in a remote little town called Angleton. Angleton is literally about 50 miles from Houston, and the only thing between Angleton and civilization is a long stretch of highway. Not very exciting. It was not often that Kevin and I ventured in to Houston because it was such a pain to get there, but this posed a problem for me, because my hair was growing longer and more straggly, and the only place nearby that did hair was a Supercuts that was notorious for botching haircuts. I risked it.
At first, everything seemed to be going well. The lady who cut my hair was really nice and she didn't cut a chunk out of my scalp or anything, so I was thinking that the Supercuts trip was a success...that was until I got home and noticed that, though my hair was well below my neck line, the lady had unnecessarily cut a duck tail in to the back of my hair. WHY?!? Why would you do that? Sure it was no big deal as long as my hair was down, but the minute I pulled my hair in to a pony tail, (thus exposing my duck tail) I could feel the people staring at me, wondering why it was that I had opted for such an unnecessary addition to my shoulder-length hair. I was a freak :)
Months went by and my duck tail had finally grown out to a normal length, and I decided again that Supercuts was a better option than having straggly hair. So again I went to the local Supercuts, and - lucky me - I ended up with duck tail cutter again. The same woman sat me down in the same chair as I had sat in two months before, but this time I made sure to tell her that I wanted a simple trim and nothing more. No fancy stuff. And as she began to part my hair, she noticed the patch of hair that was shorter than the rest, and she said, "Oh have I cut your hair before?" It was so odd. So my mind was racing at this point. Had she recognized the duck tail and realized that she had already marked me as her own? Was this the painless hair cutting equivalent of branding me with a branding iron? Was I her livestock? I felt so cheap and used. All that time I had thought that she just sucked at cutting hair. I had not realized that there was a method behind the madness! I decided I would not submit to her game, so the rebel in me spoke up, "No, this is my first time to come in here. I just moved to the area." It was my hope that her mind would race now as she wondered who it was that had copied her idea to brand customers. Take that, duck-tail woman! I'm nobody's livestock...