What originally began as a newly single coping strategy, it's hard to put into words the righteous indication you get from having an ex swipe up on an Instagram story of your new haircut saying that it looks good when they were the one keeping you from it in the guest place (not bitter at all). Quickly consumed my persona and I have ridden that high to become affectionately known around the city as the mullet saxophone guy. A title that I do not take lightly, still driving over an hour and a half to get a haircut because I only trust mother mullet herself with my treasure.