Many people would probably classify me as an extrovert, but all of the things you may think quantify me as an extrovert, really are nothing more than armor to protect the introvert living inside of me. Sure I can be outgoing for the sake of someone else, but almost never for myself. And one of the most awkward situations innys like me face, is the haircut.
Now growing up my sister Lisa was always there to extend her helpful sheers, and there was rarely anything uncomfortable about that. But now that she lives five-hundred plus miles away, I’m unable to take advantage of her. So the complication being: where do I get my haircut? Well, I think I’ve tried it ALL…. uhm, where to begin…?
Lets start with the basics: not so Great Clips. Now I can appreciate what they are trying to do. Which is be the Wal-Mart of hair salons. Ten dollar haircuts are great, if you’re a newly recruited soldier or you’ve discovered you have head lice, or you’re cheap/broke. Walk-ins welcome! It should read walk in to awkward conversations welcome. I don’t know what to talk to this person about, I don’t know you, therefore I do not want to tell you about my family or what my plans are for the day. But if you don’t talk, they think you’re mad about the haircut they’re giving you. And when they do give me a terrible haircut, I feel obligated to tell them how great it is, as if their stylist self-esteem depended on it.
Next stop: The homo. So we’ve all heard the old wise tale that the gays are best for doing your hair. WRONG! they’re best at doing the same sex. Maybe my homosexual experience was rare, but I don’t want to get out of the pumpy-chair to end up looking like Jane Fonda had a baby with Lady Ga Ga. The man-queen that worked his gayness all over my head was far from appreciated. I’m sure he thought I looked fabulous, so I let him think that I felt the same way, and left him to finish reading Twilight and daydream about testicles.
Lastly: The “I still havent rented a permanent location yet, so I set up shop in my house” hair-stylist. Your Pug thinks it’s much bigger than it is, and I think by his barking and tugging on my pant leg he’s trying to tell me he’d like to be punted between those upright looking trees. Oh my, thank you so much for going out of your way to make your house smell like burnt frozen pizza and cat urine covered by the scent of freshly sprayed Febreeze. I’m sorry but there is nothing more awkward then going to a strangers house to get a haircut. No matter how good they are and no matter how hard they tried to set the mood while they washed my hair in their kitchen sink, this situation is chodetastic.
So what’s the solution? I’m not completely sure, but here’s what I’ve learned thus far; First off, dont be cheap, twenty-five bucks isnt that bad for a haircut if youre happy with it. Secondly, find a person you like and are not uncomfortable around or at least you can withstand their personality for thirty minutes or so. Then keep making appointments with that person. As this is what I am currently trying, I can only hope seeing the same person can make the invasion of my personal bubble, that getting a haircut is, much more tolerable.
So here’s to no more sweaty palms or increase in heart rate before getting the ole’ ears lowered.