Haircut, All of Them

The folks who invented the Flowbee© might have been on to something. To me, there’s nothing more I could ask for than a consistent cut that eliminates the necessity of interaction with barbers/stylsts. Unfortunately, the mechanics of such a cut involve the use of vacuums and spinning razor blades, the personal grooming equivalent of a Roomba-Lawnmower hybrid. So, until somebody invents the Flowbee2.0, I still have to go get my haircut.

It was time for a cut this weekend, since I’ve avoided the barber so long that even my sideburns have cowlicks. Since I was home this weekend, my mom scheduled me an appointment at one of those places where all of the magazines in the waiting section are really shiny and have nothing to do with Sports. Everybody in the magazines have perfect hair, as do the other people waiting to get their haircut. In fact, most people waiting to get their haircut seem to come in about once every few days. I find this slightly baffling, seeing as how my hair never even looks normal until approximately 8 days after the initial haircut. I usually wear a hat for at least 5 days after the cut.

My barber/stylists introduces himself and sticks out his hand to shake mine. He has a gigantic white bandage on his index finger; it looks like a corn dog with gauze. Never trust a skinny chef, and never trust a barber with bandages on his fingers. “Oh man. What happened to your hand?” I ask, appearing sympathetic but really just asking out of concern for the safety of my earlobes. “One of my clients made me laugh while I was cutting their hair yesterday. I just snipped the tip right off!”
“Wow. Sorry to hear that,” I say, trying to remain calm. He begins giggling, unexpectedly. “So how would you like your hair cut today?”

How are you supposed to answer that question? Whenever I say “just a trim”, I leave nearly bald and I’ve got to rock sunblock on my scalp. Are you supposed to say, “I really like how this B-List celebrity wears their hair in the magazine I saw in the waiting area. Can you do that to mine?” “Friends don’t let friends get Friends haircuts,” I remember the saying going when “the Monica”, “the Rachel”, and “the Ross” were making rounds. Celebrity haircuts are too derivative; you end up looking like you belong in a GAP commercial. If you bring in a picture of yourself with your favorite haircut and say “make me look like this again,” you run the risk of looking vain. So what do you do?

“How would you like your hair cut today?”

“I dunno. Just try to make me look good (and please don’t cut off my earlobes).”