Blood And Thunder

There are twelve steps involved in a haircut.  I enjoy none of them.

The Decision:
When do you need a haircut? The line, for me, is not just between “Needs A Haircut” and “Doesn’t Need A Haircut”. There is a third category, “Should Get A Haircut”.

The line between “Doesn’t Need A Haircut” and “Should Get A Haircut” is subtle. Things get a little shaggy.

The line between “Should Get A Haircut” and “Needs A Haircut” is dramatic and upsetting. The top of my head quickly goes to one of two settings, Einstein or Combover.

 

The Scheduling:
The line into “Needs A Haircut” is usually crossed when I have no spare time and/or no spare money for six to ten days. Usually I manage to run into a Supercuts or the like ten minutes before closing, which ensures the staff is elated to see me.

 

The Decline:
Especially when I ruin their day right off by declining the shampoo. I don’t know why this bothers them. I wash my hair before I arrive, they get paid the same — more on this later — and neither of us has to breathe the heavy floral scent that smells like it was designed to mask the odor of a July suicide no one noticed for a few weeks.

 

The Question:
This is the worst part:

“How do you want it cut?”

I want it long. And fuller on top. And farther down my forehead. If you can’t do that, don’t rub it in. Just quietly cut every hair to fifty percent of current length. We both feel bad for me. Let’s not talk about it.

 

The Small Talk:
I get my hair cut in Miami or Chicago. In Miami the cutter speaks Spanish. In Chicago she speaks Polish. Either way I’m in trouble if I stray from the phonetically-memorized How-Are-You-How-Was-Your-Holiday-What-Do-You-Do script. Talk on your cellphone if you need a friend. Just stop pretending we’re enjoying this.

 

The Sideburns:
There is no answer to the question “How long you want sideburns?” that will not be met with eloquently judgmental eyebrows saying “Seriously?”. Don’t ask me. Just pick something. They’ll grow back.

 

The Neck:
I am aware it is difficult to discern where shaving the neck leaves off and shaving the back begins. Unsnapping the tissue-collar and smock is fine. Pulling out the neck of my tshirt is both insulting and itchy. I’m not really into tank tops ,so just go ahead and stop at the collar. Thanks.

 

The Ears:
Men of a certain age require a quick glide over the ears with the clippers. I am of that age. Treat this like the doctor treats the hernia check: You know we have to do it. Don’t loudly ask me if I want it. Just do it.

 

The Top:
Do I want it “longer on top”?  Yes.   Good luck.

 

The Gel:
Do I want gel? As what, polish?   Look, I know corporate gives you this script, but it’s okay to go off-book.

 

The Bill:
It is ridiculous to list the price of “shampoo and haircut” as $15 if you are going to charge that without the shampoo, too. Who’s your marketing department? Charge $15 for the cut and throw in the shampoo free.

Speaking of marketing. Attention Supercuts, Haircuttery, etc: The first among you to offer the Bald Budget Bargain, which I propose be $10 inclusive for ten minutes with a silent professional who will simply neaten things up and send you on your way, will thrive beyond your wildest imaginings. I’m talking doubled stock price and customer loyalty greater that than of the Chicago Cubs.

 

The Tip:
I have worked for tips. I am a really good tipper. I always add $3 to the haircut price. But let me vent: You ran clippers over my head, yammered about nothing, and embarassed me. If I want to sit in a chair and feel abused without physical contact, I’d rather have a better-looking woman in a catsuit do it. It might cost more, but I would, strangely, feel less violated.

And HER I would tip cheerfully.

This entry was posted on Sunday, November 29th, 2009 at 3:02 pm and is filed under Just to hear my own voice. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.