Recently I started growing out my bangs and quickly became enamored with them as they began cascading down to my chin.

Soon I worried that the rest of my hair would become a distraction, so I shaved the back and sides of my head completely to the skin,
leaving only a waterfall of bangs covering my face.

I grew my bangs longer and longer and shaved the remainder of my head daily
and even took a hair-growth formula to speed up the process,
and, in no time, I had bangs reaching down to my feet.

This did not come without sacrifice, however, as my personal relationships, work life, and family life suffered tremendously…

At first my parents thought it was just a phase, but then they became increasingly hostile to my hairstyle,
and would routinely throw food at me during meals, tell me I looked like “Cousin It” from “The Adam’s Family,”
and angrily demand I cut my hair.

My friends also didn’t care for my hair, stopped returning my phone calls, refused to be seen in public with me, and even sent an Italian barber to ambush me…

(When I was out doing urban aerobics naked in the city park, the barber, Giuseppe, had leapt down at me from the upper branches of a large tree
and lunged at my hair with scissors, but I was able to escape him by jumping onto the back of a jogger and piggyback-riding the jogger away to safety)

And my girlfriend was so traumatized by my appearance that she shaved the right side of her head
and joined a strange cult of people that shave the right side of their heads
and go door to door in residential neighborhoods singing Christmas carols all year round.

At work, my boss threatened to fire me
but wasn’t sure if anti-discrimination laws applied to people with abnormally long bangs or strange hairstyles
and, instead of firing me, banished me to a tiny office in the basement
and forced me to enter the building wearing a poncho and forbade me from speaking to anybody during lunch.

On the street, small children would scream, point, and run away from me.
People from foreign countries would accost me in strange languages
and occasionally storekeepers would chase me out of their stores for no reason.

And I was constantly bumping into things, would get my hair caught in escalators,
and a small fury animal appeared to be building a nest of some sort in my hair as well…

Although I felt like an outcast, I really was fond of my haircut
and soon discovered a website full of people from various places who all had abnormal hairstyles and refused to cut them.
Having a support group such as this made me feel as though I wasn’t alone.

However, my family and few remaining friends had had enough…

When I showed up to Thanksgiving Dinner, they cornered me, and I realized this was an intervention of some sort.

My mother, on the verge of sobbing, confronted me, and launched into a gripping emotional testimonial about how ashamed my horrendous haircut made her feel.

Several of my friends, my father, grandfather, and creepy uncle from Detroit
(who always wears wrinkly plaid shirts and bad cologne)
confessed that my hairstyle made them want to punch me in the head.

In unison they all begged me to cut my hair.

My Mother then broke into tears and yelled, “Look at what your stupid hairstyle is doing to this family!”

When I steadfastly continued to refute any notion of a haircut, they all surrounded me, grabbed me, pinned me down,
and my creepy uncle unsheathed a pair of garden sheers and crept towards me…

During the ensuing fracas, I screamed, cried, spit, and kicked at my friends and family,
which led several of them to punch me in the head,
and I think I even felt my grandma jab me in the kidney with her walker a couple times.

Resistance, though, was futile and soon enough my creepy uncle had hacked off all my bangs up to the tip of my forehead;
when finished, he held the bangs up in the air like a trophy, smiled, and everyone applauded and cheered.

As I looked at the large mess of hair, which resembled a dead aardvark,
I realized the error of my ways and broke out crying, sprang up from the floor,
and hugged and apologized to my friends and family for my inconsiderate ways.

Nowadays, I shave my entire head, wax all my body hair, and even shave off my eyebrows and eyelashes because they are much too bang-like.

And, despite the fact that my face and head now resemble an uncircumcised penis,
I guess it’s better for your face to look like an uncircumcised penis than it is for your face to look like it has a dead animal hanging over it...

I also no longer need to worry about getting attacked by Italian barbers in city parks when I’m out doing urban aerobics naked and that’s pretty good, too.