On March 11, my barber, let’s name him Fred for post purposes, whom I have been going to for some 14 years, had knee surgery. Unfortunately, I did not plan accordingly from my last visit. Now, I really needed a haircut. Please understand, I am not that neurotic by only allowing one person to cut my hair. I have so many other things to be concerned with – that is not one of them. Besides, it’s hair. It will grow. And, there’s always gel. Furthermore, I have ‘strayed’ before. However, this blog was not available then to highlight such… styling indiscretions.
Until now.
First, a few background barber ‘bits:
- I have a long face, therefore I need an appropriate cut. If not, gel gets wasted and … . It ain’t pretty.
- my hair grows faster on the left side of my head. Truthfully, I’m just happy I have hair that does, in fact, still grow. Though the woman that told me this ‘bit inspired this post. Hmm… .
- crew cuts are a very bad look for me
- never ask a bald man where to get a haircut*
- a few years ago, a styling indiscretion led to a ‘faux’ mullet. Definitely, something I want to ‘faux’-get. Luckily, Fred knows nothing about this … faux pas.
- Fred takes appointments, charges $17, and is quite the perfectionist.
- Lastly, I’s got me a new pair of Revo sunglasses. Cool. The rims are a clear, charcoal tint. Since my hair is darker brown the rims appear similarly hued. Very Cool. I realize this has little to do hair, but it kinda does. Regardless, sunglasses ARE important.
Now, I had a perfect opportunity to stray without guilt, I might add. Unfortunately, life got in the way. Fast-forward another week – I really, really needed a haircut. Think Wolverine without the lamb chop sideburns. And, those switchblade knuckle things, of course. In desperation AND at the advice from a bald butcher named Jake*, I found a … solution.
A local barber shop downtown –
Walk in. Sit right down. Clip here/clip there. Relief. Her – attempts conversation. Me – Polite responses. Cut here/cut there. sigh. Thank you, Jake. Her – more conversation. Me – thwarted. Still polite, though. Fred never talks. Look in mirror – clean and short on sides. I’m good with it. Snip here/snip … . Pause in mid-snip. Hmm… . Interaction with another stylist. Concerned . ‘New’ technique demonstrated ON MY HEAD. Don’t panic. Sneak look in mirror. Still good with it. Her – still attempting conversation. Really? Me – no longer polite. Thinning shears. DONE. Final mirror review. Hair damp. But … good?
Arrive at gym.
Remove hat. Hair dry. Fuck me! Forget ‘Wolverine’, I’m Carrottop. Attempt workout. No focus. Ugly haircut. Shit. I am SO not good with this. Panic. Options. Return to shop – could get ugly. No time. Work at 2pm. Options. Next week? Can’t wait. I listened to a bald guy! Options. What about … ? Look in mirror. I could do this.
Home.
Scissors. Bathroom. ONLY SOLUTION. Garbage can in sink. Fuck the gel. Grab lock of hair. Cringe. CLIP. That was … cathartic. Cutting frenzy. Looks good. Another chunk. Better. Last snip –
Best, worst haircut ever!
