The Basement Boys: Where Are They Now?

I cut my hair short again. No. The barber cut my hair short again. With my consent, of course. So my head that used to sport a really cool 'do, ehem ehem, now looks like the head of the Dork Lord of the Sith. Wait... I AM the Dork Lord of the Sith.

In times of really bad haircuts like this, I remember my good friends from our beloved UP freshman dorm. (Our rooms were in the basement, thus the label "basement boys" - our tag is so cool, we can use it as a boy band name.).

One Saturday, we basement boys went to one of the barber shops at the UP Shopping Center to get our ROTC prescribed haircuts. To CUT (yay, a pun! a lousy one!) the story short, i got the worst haircut that I almost cried my freshman heart out.

So all of them basement friends went to my rescue. One grabbed a comb, one grabbed a tube of hair gel, one grabbed... a bag of potato chips. I don't know why. We went straight to the common bathroom, in front of the mirror and they tried to fix my hair.

And of course, if the word TRY is there, it means they either succeeded or failed. They failed. My hair was still ugly. Think Tolit's hair in the "Ako, Lagi na lang ako" Tide commercial.

So they gathered around me. Half snickering, half consoling.

Then Pinoy said, "Ok lang yan. Tutubo din yan. Buti nga buhok lang ang naputol sa'yo hindi yung ____ kasi di na tutubo yun."

We all laughed.

Ah dorm humor. It solves everything - from homesickness to bad haircuts.



This post is dedicated to Pinoy, Eson, Zeks, Dex and everyone who tried to salvage my hair that day.