You change your clothes in the back, admiring your lanky frame in the mirror. Other than the chest hair poking out the top of your tye dye t-shirt and goatee, you're cute enough to be a girl. You've always prided yourself on your pretty long hair. You like wearing kilts and skirts, you were born a little too late for the 80s but you loved the gender ambiguous clothing of that era and like androgyny.
You push through the beaded doorway, and the girl directs you to sit down. She brushes through your long locks preparing to braid your hair. She compliments you on your long waivy locks and asks how long you've been growing your hair out.
"Seven years," you answer, enjoying the feeling of her brushing your waist-length hair. She sees the friendship beats around your wrist and you tell her your boyfriend gave them to you on your birthday. It feels so good to finally be out of the closet. Your family and friends always suspected anyway. You wanted to tell them before going off to college. You're so glad that you and your boyfriend will be going off to college together. As she braids your hair into a neat french braid, you both talk about hair care, boys, jewelry, she asks about the earrings your boyfriend gave you, and you compliment her on her beautiful necklace. She tells you where she got it and you make a point to stop to see what the necklace vendor has before leaving.
The time flies, and your now knee-long french braid is done. You both hug and kiss like long time girl friends, and you make your way out, tossing your old clothes in a trash bin.
You see your boyfriend and wave to him. He comes over and smiles, "I approve." You run your fingers through his long hair, as he leans down slightly to kiss you.
You're two gay hippie bois in love, and you walk through the bluster and booths, hand in hand, stopping when...