I’d gone without a haircut for at least two months. I’d been cutting it myself for a few years until I met L. She’s the queen of the mushroom cut and, when I asked her if she could cut my hair, she became enthused about the prospect of learning how to fade. She’s been cutting my hair for almost a year now. Over the last few weeks, we’d been playing phone tag and running into each other; making vague plans for an appointment, but they kept slipping away unrealized. Yesterday, I received a photo with a note scrawled on the back of it in my mailbox.