Sunday, April 13, 2008

3 lessons learned about haircuts

Subject: Warm hands

I sought out a simple haircut to rid myself of the shag of tribulations past. This would for most be a simple endeavor in which one gets their haircut, tips the hairdresser and moves on. Unfortunately, in my life it's just the beginning of yet another long tale.

Lesson one: Small talk means small talk

Lesson two: Warm hands mean no hair left

Lesson three: Keep eyes open, mouth shut

I went to my local hair dresser for a quick trim and thought it
would be a swift transaction at best. The girl who usually cuts my hair hates me and likes to get me out of the chair as quickly as possible. She does a good job, but does not want me there. This works for me as I hate to get me haircut as I feel the memories of mom, bowl, and friends’ laughter haunting me like pastrami burps that run deep into the night. So, I step to the stylist and ask for my trim. She sits my down, places a leopard pattern apron around my neck, and asks what I want. I ask for a trim with scissors.
Reaching for her water bottle, she says ok! As she is spraying my hair, I can sense that she really likes the song on the radio as she is singing it word for word without a mistake. It was at this point that the storeowner comes over to me and asks if I like the song as well. Being an agreeable chap, I said "Sure it is a nice song." This is where the trim became a full haircut. Once I said I liked it, she told me she wrote it. I could have kept my mouth shut and kept to lesson number one, but no, I had to tell her that I was a musician as well. As she shared her trials and troubles about life as a budding star, I could see the site of my once precious mane becoming shorter and shorter and it was when I came to lesson number two, did I realize the reason I could feel how warm her hands were. Cutting and chatting in a way that was more suitable for tea and crumpets, I watched the continued amputation of my locks as they were dislodge from there former place of rest and fell helplessly to the floor.
When she could no longer get her fingers between my scalp and hair, she stopped. I sat transfixed on the mirror and thankful I had my hat with me when I came to lesson number three, paid her and left.


SOURCE: MakrD

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