The Gel Smells like Candy....

So after seeing all the pictures that I have tossed around the internet the last couple days, one might expect this post to be about my recent trips to Verona and Venice.  I will give you the Cliffs Notes since something far more hilarious has happened.  Verona-awesome. Horse meat-awesome.  I am sort of done with Venice-too many tourists.

Moving on...since I went to a terribly long six hours of class yesterday, I decided to skip my last one today and venture off in search of a haircut. As you can see, I found one.  Everything was going fine, the hair cutter, or stylist as I would find out, was very friendly and complimented me on my Italian skills, which is always a sure way to win me over.  After some shampoo and a thorough towling, I was ready to pay and return home, but she turned around with a container of gel in hand, clearly wanting more time with me and my American hair.

"Gel?"  She asked.  This Italian word I understood.

"No, grazie."  I explained to her that I was about to go home and take a shower.

"But it's free..." she told me in Italian and covered her fingers in the viscus yellow liquid.  "You shower later."  

She dove right in before I could protest and began sculpting my hair into some sort of Euro spectacle that made me laugh hysterically when I looked at myself in the "specchio."

I walked home with this monstrosity on my head, blasting daft punk on my Ipod. Unsurprisingly, I received more strange looks than I normally do.  

Oh there goes one of us, hair perpetually wet, tight sweatshirt, soccer shoes, listening to techno, what a nice young boy...

wait a minute...something is not right here...

I sort of felt like the equivalent of an Italian driving a Hummer down Main Street, wearing a John Wayne costume, with a football helmet on his head, singing, "Born in the USA! I was..."  

The pictures don't quite do the haircut justice, and it's also difficult to pick up on the fact that I hadn't shaved in a few days and was sporting a pretty solid bad-teenage-mustache, completing my creepy guy look.   

Unfortunately, I just got out of the shower, where I shampooed, rinsed, and repeated, and then shaved, ending my stint as a faux European. On the bright side...my hair still smells a bit like candy.