Impish Frenchwomen

Yesterday evening I trimmed my hair as part of an ongoing effort to make myself look less soft-rock and more cutting-edge. I didn’t modify it too drastically—just snipped the fringe a bit straight across—but ever since I stepped out in public today, people have been treating me differently. When I stopped to buy a muffin from the coffee shop on my morning walk to the library, the young man behind the counter winked and said, “it’s on me.” When I accidentally dropped my book-bag while skipping up the library steps, a gentleman ran into oncoming traffic from across the street (at great risk to his personal well-being) to pick it up for me. Inside the library, while browsing the Jonathan Swift section, a man took great pains to explain to me his great interest in Swift, then, when I moved to see what was offered in the way of Aphra Behn, he said, “you like Aphra Behn? I love Aphra Behn!” (Funny thing about that, he pronounced the surname Bean.) Upon standing up to leave, I was invited to book clubs, book readings, and book signings, and on the walk home I was propositioned for accompaniment on my way, diversions through the park, and my hand in marriage (though in this state, same-sex marriages are still illegal, and my ring-finger is clearly occupied). It wasn’t until I stopped at my front doorstep to check the mail that the reason for all the extra-attention became clear; a man driving-by slowed his car, rolled down his window, and shouted.

“Amélie! Amélie! I LOVE YOU!”

I ran inside and took a long look in the mirror. It’s true—with my new haircut, I look exactly like everyone’s most beloved impish Frenchwoman. I am adorable. I must take care of this soon before it becomes too much of a distraction.

For the time being, however, I think I’ll just enjoy my reflection a little while longer…



Categories: Amelie, Ben_Lee, Ben_Lee_Rants, Hair