So did I. It did not a whit of good, now did it? How did you put it, those fairy-tales-- no, never mind.

[Something about fairy-tale bullshit, yes.]

[Still, he grabs on to the change of subject like a dying man to a life preserver. Clothes are much easier to talk about then lost love and everybody knowing how pathetic he was.]

It's keeping the young women from recognizing me, which was my intent. It's serving me well, in that -- moment of image change.

But I still refuse to cut my hair. Especially for a pack of sobbing children who know too much.

[So there.]