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Life is only what you wonder.

Friday, August 27, 2004

It Wasn't A Crisis, But It Was Pretty Durn Close

I was all excited about getting a new hairdo.
I had this big mop on top of my head and I needed something new, something easy to style, something that didn't require a half a bottle of gel, a quarter bottle of hairspray, and 30 minutes to fix.
So I go to get my new 'do yesterday, but the place I normally go was just mobbed with parents and their children getting their "back to school" haircuts, and I really didn't feel like waiting.
(I really should have made an appointment first, but I wasn't thinking about it, OK?)
So I went to the barber shop down the street instead, basically because there was nobody waiting. And I hate waiting for anything.

now, this was a black barbershop. Not the Afro Hut, but a similar establishment. I don't care about things like that, I figure hair is hair.
Anyhoo, I go in and sit in the chair and I tell the dude what I want and he starts cutting away, the whole time talking on his cell phone.
After he's finished I look in the mirror and at first glance it looks pretty good.

    "I an stylin' and profilin'!" I thought.
I didn't have much time to admire it, though, because I had to dash right home and get ready to go out with G. So I get ready and I spray my hair and while I'm fixing it, something seems not to be quite right, but I don't have time to think about it, 'cause I'm in a hurry.
Anyway, we go out to the Port in a Storm to shoot pool and have a couple of cocktails, and the time I get back, I'm tired and ready to hit the sack.

I wake up this morning and I take a shower and when I'm done I'm standing in front of the mirror when I notice that something Just Isn't Right.
I don't know whether the barber just wasn't used to cutting white folk's hair, or if he was distracted, or on crack or what, but he competely missed a couple of sections of my hair when he was shaving the back of my head, the sides and bangs were all uneven and lopsided.
Oh, it was horrible!
So I go over there, and I'm totally prepared to totally freak out.
"Look what you did to me!!!"

    "If they don't fix it, I'm going to flip!" I remember thinking.
The barber who butchered me yesterday wasn't working, but I explained what happened to the guy that was working today and he fixed it.
He took me first, even though there were other people ahead of me and he didn't charge me anything which was also very nice, so I made sure I tipped him very well.

The only thing is, in order to fix what the other barber did he had to cut my hair extremely short. Almost military-style.
I never wear my hair this short, so It's a little strange, but at least I don't look like someone cut my hair with an axe.

I guess it might seem a little silly to be all upset over your hair. After all, it grows, right?
Hair is like a hat that you can't take off.