Today someone made the best case for me to finally just shave all the remaining hair off the top of my head and just go completely bald. And amazing thing is, the person did it without saying a word.
My hair was getting to that point where it was starting to get annoying. You know what I'm talking about. Not too long but just long enough that my hair was sticking out around my ears and tickled the back of my neck when I would lean my head back. So, I decided it was time to go visit Great Clips and spend $15 for them to do about four minutes of work.
The only problem with that idea was that there was a hand written sign taped to the door with one word on it...Closed.
I wasn't sure if the sign meant they were closed for good or just for lunch. Either way, I would have to go elsewhere for my haircut.
The next nearest place that did hair cuts was Cost Cutters. I hadn't been there in a long long time, but figured I would give them a shot. Plus, they are right next to a Little Caesar's. Pizza. Pizza.
I check in and have a seat. They told me my wait would be roughly 15 minutes. Not bad considering there were three people ahead of me. Besides 15 minutes would be more than enough time to observe my surroundings.
The place was pretty clean. Mirrors and glass were all shiny. No balls of hair crawling across the floor. No blood stains around the chairs or on their clippers. Always a plus.
Finally my name gets called. When I look up, my gaze is met by two dark apathetic soulless orbs. The woman's face matches her eyes. She leads me to her chair and asks, "what are we doing today? "
I swear they must teach them that question in beauty school. That question so annoys me. Pretty much for the same reason it annoys me when people are talking about their favorite sports team and they say, "we are so going to beat the other team". 'YOU' aren't beating anyone. Unless you were recently drafted, the only thing you are doing is sitting on the couch inhaling a bag of Doritos.
The same goes for hair stylists. 'WE' aren't doing anything to my hair. The only thing I'm going to do is sit in this chair and make awkward conversation with you for about five minutes.
So I tell her what I would like done and get ready for the small talk. But there is none. Still displaying all the emotion of your typical horror film villain, she adjusts her clippers and gets to work.
And by getting to work, I mean she got to work giving me the most painful hair cut of my life.
Thank God clippers have that protective cover otherwise who knows what I would look like right now.
When she brought the clippers down on my head there was an audible smacking sound. Over and over. Every time the clippers connected with my head I would wince. When she trimmed around my ears, she pulled them out a little father than design intended.
I was just about to ask if I could actually switch to a different person when everything just stopped. When I opened my eyes to see what new torture she was preparing to inflict on my head she wasn't there.
She had gone to the counter to check someone else in. Relieved, I started to decide how I was going to get away from this stoic creature.
As I looked around the room, I saw the stylist working on someone in the chair next to mine.
In a low apologetic voice she said, "She's kind of going through some things." And with that brief statement she went back to work.
Yeah, I know she is going through something... the top of my head if she keeps it up.
The evil presence returned. She grabbed a hold of my head then pushed it forward. 'This is it!'. She's going to use those clippers or some machete she has hidden somewhere and cut my head off. Ah well, at least the pain will be over.
Wrong. She pushed the clippers so hard against my neck she actually cut open a scar.
Finally, she uttered the only two words I wanted... no... desperate to hear. "All done."
I pulled myself out of the chair and went to get my jacket. I almost went to the counter first, but who knows what lay in wait for me there. If I needed to make a quick break for it, I would need my jacket.
Without a smile she told me my bill. I gave her my credit card and proceeded to watch her swipe it over and over and over again.
When she finally handed me my card and the slip, I did something I have never done before. I didn't leave her a tip.
It may be mean, but it was honestly the worst most painful hair cut I have ever had.
For now on when I go to get a hair cut, I will have a few questions for the person about to cut my hair. Question number one, "Are you going through anything right now?"
