I got a haircut yesterday.
I hate haircuts.
It's not that I mind actually having my hair cut, what I mind is a total stranger lopping off my hair as casually as if I were a topiary in someone's front lawn. And touching my head. It bothers me greatly. But, that's not my only reason for hating haircuts. My other experiences with barbershops haven't been so stellar either...
I was in third grade and I decided that I wanted my hair cut like Dorothy Hamill (an Olympic figureskater-- find a picture of her and see what her hair looked like). So, off we went to the little place by the Wal-Mart where I informed this indifferent looking woman how I wanted my hair, and for clarification I threw in, "You know short, like Dorothy Hamill's hair." At the end of the ordeal, it was entirely apparent that the lady either A. Had no idea who Dorothy Hamill was, or B. Thought that Dorothy Hamill was a little boy with a horrid looking bowl cut. I looked like a little boy with a horrid bowl cut.
Do you honestly think that I'm exaggerating? Okay, so not long after I got this haircut, a new family moved in next door to us. They had two boys, both of whom thought that I also was a boy for 3 months. 3 full months. They got a clue when I got a pink bike for my birthday. The older kid got this expression of horror and goes, "Wait, wait-- you're a girl?" Why yes, I do believe you've hit the nail on the head.
So I honestly have reasons for hating haircuts. So, understandibly, I was nervous when this woman with spiky black and red hair started toward my hair with a pair of scissors. She was also chewing gum-- seriously, what if she choked and spit it out into my hair? (I am slightly paranoid/overly imaginative-- call it what you will) And she constantly commented on how much hair I had. "There's just so much of it. It just kind of hangs." she said while picking up a strand of my hair and letting it fall back in place. Of course it hangs. It's hair. Would you rather it stand straight on end? (I was somewhat frustrated). Every time she cut off any of my hair, she would say, "Oh don't worry. It's fine. It's all right."
Finally, she was done and said,"Here look at it, do you like it?"
I was rather pleased (pleased meaning, I won't have to wear a hat for six months.)
But, hat or not, I am not about to start to start trusting random strangers with scissors.
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Last time I got my hair cut I was pretty close to broke and so I went to one of those "hair academy" training places where they charge some sweatshop rate.
I noticed as I sat down that my stylist had a badge on that said "BEGINNER, level one-a". Ehhhh...
While trying to make conversation with the girl, I asked her what she liked best about cosmetology.
While snipping enthusiastically away, she replied, "Oh, HAIR! Definitely HAIR! I love doing EXTREME things!!!!"
I have had my hair cut by a "professional" all of one time. I was absolutely terrified to be honest. However, I did end up trusting her before she was done. She had a sweet personality and reminded me a whole lot of one of my cousins. That certainly does not mean that I trust anyone with my hair. Oh no. Next time I get a hair cut I'm going to try and find a way to not have a "professional" do it, but that may be unavoidable.
I guess I'm on the other side of the aisle, but I usually have pleasant experiences with the whole hair cutting endeavor.
But then again....I do imagine that cutting my hair is probably a pretty simple process.
I've pretty much been going to the same barber for a while. 3 or 4 years ago, he asked me what my future plans were..."oh, i'm looking at the naval academy, and maybe the air force academy."
Funny how things work out sometimes. (I think I may send him a postcard when I get there.)
I got a hair cut today...I hate taking off my glasses. It makes me feel that much more vulnerable to those snipping scissors and purring clippers. What if he slices my ear like they do to hogs?
Ashlyn...can I just say, this is hilarious??
And I remember that haircut, btw. :D
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