This story has nothing to do with Luna….but…
Sean decided it was time to shave his head again. I prefer long hair on him (not like Fabio long, but boy band long…long enough to style, but not so much that it hangs past his earlobes), so once a year he’ll grow his hair out for me. Last week, he got fed up with the long hair, so he decided to trim it. Only, he forgot to put the safety on his electric razor…so, now he’s bald. And I mean, he was BALD for the first day or so. Like Ed Harris Vin Diesel type of bald.
We went to breakfast at our favorite Greek diner for Valentine’s Day. We go to this diner SO OFTEN that the two weekend servers and the owner know us by name. And when we walked in, the one server looked at Sean and lovingly fawned over the new (lack of) hair.
“You look Puerto Rican!” she exclaimed with a thick Brooklyn accent.
“Really?” Sean and I both said at once.
“But he’s so Irish pasty…” I looked at her doubtfully and then whispered, “Really, you don’t have to say you like it just to be nice! We’ll still tip well…” I winked at her.
“I’m not! I really like it! But I’m Puerto Rican, so…”
Sean and I had assumed she was Greek because she looks SO much like the owner. We had assumed she was the Greek daughter of the Diner’s owner. And while I tend to worry about making such statements…always attempting to stay politically correct, Sean thought nothing of it. “We thought you were Greek!” He blurted out.
My head fell into my hands. Could this be offensive? Are we gonna be cast out of our favorite diner?
Luckily, she just laughed. “I’ve worked here for so long that I now consider myself Greek-a-Rican!”