My jet black hair introduced me to Kim. It was a chance, desperate meeting, but one that began a two-year relationship. I followed her everywhere until it became impossible to continue. Kim would become one in a series of relationships that started out promising but left me abandoned. I met her on a Sunday afternoon. My "it costs a little more, but you're worth it" color job cost me a helluva lot more. My $10 bottle of Fonzie-black hair was appalling and it was unfeasible I would go to work on Monday looking like I did. I drove to the mall and gingerly travailed the distance from the parking lot to the second level for the Regis Salon . All my hair was pushed up under a cap. I had called ahead so Kim was waiting for me. Two hours later and $150 poorer, Kim had faded my hair back to the chestnut brown that I had originally sought. Afterwards, I was smitten and devoted to Kim. Three haircuts and two hair colors into our blossoming hair affair, Kim announced she was...
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