Fear of the Unknown
I'm entering uncharted waters when I leave work today: I'm going to a place that I've never been before, and letting a total stranger cut my hair.
There are two schools of thought when it comes to haircuts--I think this is probably more of a guy option than a female one. But anyway, there's the "I only let (insert name here) cut my hair, because she's been doing it since I was 12," and then there's the apathetic, "I just walk into Fantastic Sam's/SuperCuts/A Great Cut/Shears R Us and plop down in the chair and let them do their thing." I have been a member of the former group for sometime. I found somebody that I like, knows not to cut the crown of my head too short (makes it stick up), etc etc. She's probably been whipping her scissors around my scalp for about 5 years. But desperate times call for desperate measures.
I need a haircut. Badly. I ran into my haircut chick this week at the grocery store, and asked her what her schedule looked like. "I've had to cut back on hours--I'm working 11:00-2:00 this week." Something about having to share a car w/ her daughter b/c she was hit by an uninsured motorist. Great, you're only available during a time of day that I'm usually working or getting ready to go to lunch. So today I cut my lunch short, and thought I'd drop by at 1:50 or so, hoping I might get lucky (not THAT way). Nope--she was outta there. Tomorrow isn't an option because Leah and I have baby classes over at the hospital. Sunday is out because, oh yeah, hair chick doesn't work that day, either (plus, I think I have a tee time).
So, today I'm gonna waltz right into this place called Sport Clips that kinda caters to men anyway (hey, I'm one of those!). Rumor has it that they have SportsCenter and football-type testosterone stuff on the TV's, so I think I'm at home already. Trouble is--I'm outta my comfort zone, too.
There are two schools of thought when it comes to haircuts--I think this is probably more of a guy option than a female one. But anyway, there's the "I only let (insert name here) cut my hair, because she's been doing it since I was 12," and then there's the apathetic, "I just walk into Fantastic Sam's/SuperCuts/A Great Cut/Shears R Us and plop down in the chair and let them do their thing." I have been a member of the former group for sometime. I found somebody that I like, knows not to cut the crown of my head too short (makes it stick up), etc etc. She's probably been whipping her scissors around my scalp for about 5 years. But desperate times call for desperate measures.
I need a haircut. Badly. I ran into my haircut chick this week at the grocery store, and asked her what her schedule looked like. "I've had to cut back on hours--I'm working 11:00-2:00 this week." Something about having to share a car w/ her daughter b/c she was hit by an uninsured motorist. Great, you're only available during a time of day that I'm usually working or getting ready to go to lunch. So today I cut my lunch short, and thought I'd drop by at 1:50 or so, hoping I might get lucky (not THAT way). Nope--she was outta there. Tomorrow isn't an option because Leah and I have baby classes over at the hospital. Sunday is out because, oh yeah, hair chick doesn't work that day, either (plus, I think I have a tee time).
So, today I'm gonna waltz right into this place called Sport Clips that kinda caters to men anyway (hey, I'm one of those!). Rumor has it that they have SportsCenter and football-type testosterone stuff on the TV's, so I think I'm at home already. Trouble is--I'm outta my comfort zone, too.
posted by Eric C at 4:22 PM
2 Comments:
Dude, it's just a haircut. And speaking as someone who has seen plenty of men from the Russell gene pool, just be glad you've got plenty to get cut.
I wasn't really stressin' about it or anything--it was just a deviation from the norm. As it turns out, I really wasn't TOO crazy about my new 'do, but it's tolerable. This chick hasn't mastered the art of chatting and cutting at the same time--every time she'd start making small talk, she'd stop mid-air with her scissors in her hand.
Post a Comment
<< Home