Thursday, April 12, 2012

Just Even Up The Sides A Bit ...

I got a haircut yesterday, which, in and of itself, is not really blogworthy (though I most certainly have written about far more mundane topics), but it was just a bit different than my normal cosmetological experience, due to the … oh, quirkiness, let’s say … of the person administering it.

Due to shear* laziness, I usually go quite some time between cuts, which results in what some refer to as a goddamn rat’s nest that makes Medusa’s hair look prom-ready bit on the shaggy side when I finally go in.  I also get a pretty short cut, so as to maximize my intercut latency.  Without fail, the person makes one conservative pass at it, perhaps sensing that I prefer a longer ‘do (understandably so, of course, given my appearance upon entering the establishment), and I am left to ask them to make it a bit shorter.

Not so yesterday.

Yesterday’s stylist sat me down, and asked the regular questions about desired length and style, and I gave my regular answers, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary.  She then, however, asked if my past stylists used scissors or clippers.  “Scissors,” I responded, assuming that my answer would have some influence on the current cut.  “Okay!” she said.  “We’ll do a number 5 on the side!”

I didn’t know what that meant (outside of certain establishments in Reno, of course), and before I had time to inquire about it, she had grabbed the electric clippers and cut a large swath up the back of my head:

Above:  Agricultural equivalent of her opening salvo.

She proceeded to buzz-cut the rest of the back and around the sides, then mercifully switched to the scissors.  With each snip, she seemed to become more gleeful, making statements like “OH MY GOD THAT LOOKS SO MUCH BETTER!” and “I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU LET IT GET THIS LONG!”**  She was extremely vocal about how much she disliked unkempt hair, and while she was otherwise very nice (not to mention pretty dang cute), I was more than a little disturbed that I lived in a society that would allow her to possess sharp objects.

She finally finished her work, and said “What do you think?  I left it a little longer on top than I wanted to, because I thought maybe you liked it a little bit long up there.”  (Her idea of “a little longer” was that I could actually grasp it between two fingers.)  I resisted the urge to say something like “Well, it’ll grow back someday, I guess …” or “My phrenologist will be ecstatic!”  and instead nervously stammered “it’s … it’s … perfect” while being careful not to make any sudden movements.

Because, as they say, discretion is the better part of valor keeping a crazy girl with a razor from cutting you to pieces.

* HA!
** Seriously - she held nothing back in letting me know how trashy I looked before.


Titus said...

Never, ever trust the barber who begins with the clippers.

I'm incredibly impressed that you could find the humour in this. Bad haircuts do my head in!

The Dead Acorn said...

Titus - luckily, I don't have to look at it, and the people I know are nice enough to say it looks good. The most disturbing part was how much grey there was in what was chopped off. I'm going to have to start acting WAY younger.

The Bug said...

I love this tale :) I always go a long time between cuts, but every time I try to get it all chopped off I get foiled. Maybe I should go to this young lady?

Niamh B said...

I had a semi bad haircut experience on the very same day if you'd believe the co-incidence! The girl just had no interest in what I wanted done - to the extent that she almost started the cut before asking what length I wanted off. Luckily I really never have a clue what to say when they want my "vision" for what I want them to do "Make me look like Jennifer Anniston" "Why bother when you're never going to buy decent clothes, you've the complexion of the inside of a potato, and you don't brush your hair" (imagined answer to the request to look like JA, this is why I never ask them to make me look like JA) I also never know what to say when they ask where do I part my hair... I don't part my hair, all my hair lives together in perfect harmony....
sorry for hijacking your post. I found it very entertaining all the same.