What Happens When the Internet Is Your Stylist

Story Submitted by Don:

Back in college, I had asked Sia out, and on the afternoon of our first date, she called me up in hysterics.  "I don't know what to do," she said, almost crying into the phone, "I think I'm going to cancel tonight."

"What's wrong?" I asked her, wondering if there was an injury or death involved.

She said, "My hair!  I tried to cut it myself, but it looks like shit!  I found a how-to website and did everything it said, but everything's uneven and spiky and won't go down and I don't know what to do!"

Sia had long brown hair that I liked very much.  I told her, "I'm sure that your hair is fine, and you can wear a hat if it bothers you that much.  I won't mind."

"I'm not wearing a hat!" she snapped, "It looks like garbage!  We can't go out!"

I offered, "We can have a night in, if you want.  Your place or mine.  It just seems silly to cancel a date because of a bad hair day.  I'm sure it's not as bad as you think."

She said, "Fine.  Why don't you come by and take a look at it, then?  We'll see if you still feel the same way."

I took her up on her offer and walked to her dorm.  She opened the door to her room.  Her eyes were bloodshot and teary, but her hair was... fine.  I honestly couldn't see anything wrong with it.

I said, "Honestly, your hair looks great.  I don't see anything–"

"Liar!" she yelled, shoved me out of her room, into the hallway, and slammed the door shut.  She wouldn't come out, and I gave up on her, after that.