A Little Tale About A Mohawk And The Intern Who Gave It A HomeThe following post is true. I do have a mohawk, though it's grown in quite a bit. And I am very cool. But since truth doesn't really sit well with me, first I'm going to tell this story in the third person. Like a fairy tale. I will be playing the role of Intern Andy. Also, to make it more fairy tale-like, my character will be a rabbit. And I will wear people clothes. The other characters in the story will also be animals. They will also wear people clothes. So, sit back boys and girls.
There was once an intern named Andy. Intern Andy was a rabbit. Intern Andy really loved his internship, and his internship really loved him. Intern Andy wanted a mohawk more than anything in the world. Unfortunately, Intern Andy didn't have the money. See, Intern Andy was an intern, and interns more often than not receive no wage for their services.
Everyday, Intern Andy would pass by the pet store, see all the little mohawks playing in the window and dream of someday owning a mohawk. And sometimes, Intern Andy would cry when he realized he might never have one.
Intern Andy's two friends, Intern Melissa, a luck dragon, and Intern Jake, a bear, knew that Intern Andy wanted nothing more than to have his very own mohawk. They also knew that Intern Andy's birthday was fast approaching.
Intern Melissa and Intern Jake didn't buy Intern Andy the mohawk and it was the source of bitterness for years to come. But they were interns, too, and had no money to spend on mohawks. When Intern Andy's birthday arrived and he received no mohawk, he knew that desperate times would call for desperate measures. This was of course after he cried though the night.
Intern Andy robbed a bank later that week and was caught instantly. Well, he's a rabbit and rabbits can't really hold guns or money, or slip away undetected. Intern Andy went to jail. And Intern Andy didn't like jail. It was a scary place for him. He was there for nearly a year when his friends Melissa the luck dragon and Jake the bear finally broke him out. Quite easily in fact. Well, because they are a luck dragon and a bear. Seems pretty obvious how they would do it.
To their amazement, Intern Andy came out of prison with a mohawk, which he had apparently crafted out of random debris he had found in the prison yard. Intern Andy was also hard as shit and talking all kinds of street talk. Intern Andy's new name was The Viper Den. He had all sorts of trouble readjusting to society, but he now he had his mohawk, and that completes the story arc. Also, he could kill a man with a towel and a bar of soap. That's impressive for a rabbit. And, being an intern, he knew exactly where the towel and soap went after he was finished disposing of someone in the prison's shower area.
I had always wanted to get a mohawk. Coming to New York all by myself allows me a certain amount of anonymity. Though I've gotten to know a lot of great people since arriving in the big city, it's a different situation than it would be owning a mohawk in the Wisconsin town I grew up in. Whereas in New York, freaks are welcomed with open arms — by other freaks, as it turns out, some with no arms at all — in my hometown they're welcomed mostly by angry mobs and torches.
Just kidding. Little Midwest humor there. The angry mobs in my hometown rarely use the torches anymore. Now the townsfolk simply ostracize. "Point and ostracize, children!" the parents would say. Kidding again. Children in my hometown don't need to be told. Again, more of that Midwestern humor.
Actually, mohawks are not welcomed so warmly in New York either. The people here seem to look at it with the same frightened curiosity they do in Wisconsin. Well, when I finally decided to get a mohawk, I went to a small barbershop in the subway after work. As I received "the hawk," the entire 4,5, and 6 train community looked on. I even got people stopping to take photos.* I was a freak, put on display. At the time the hair was being cut, people seemed very interested, but walking home that day, no one thought anything of it. And it's a testament to the people of New York. They see these kinds of things everyday. "Wow, a mohawk. Interesting. MOVE, ASSHOLE!"**
People look at you differently when you have a mohawk. They sort of keep their distance from you, as if at any moment you're going to let out an ear-piercing scream and start head butting them. Now, of the thousands of people-encounters I've had during my stay here, only twice have I resorted to head butts. Screaming is a given, but head butting is a wild generalization, and I resent it.
I personally receive a large number of curious looks on account of my mohawk. But also because I'm a rabbit. And also because I'm a rabbit wearing people clothes. And I hang out with other animals. And they wear people clothes, too.
* The truth.
** So much truth your mind has just been blown