The Haircut

Ever notice that when you get the perfect hair cut, your hair grows twice as fast? Similarly, when you get a perm or color your hair, your hair seems to grow fas-s-s-s-st when you don’t want it to!

But … when you get the most pitiful cut in the world, it takes f-o-r-e-v-e-r to grow out?

Well, you guessed it! Yep, I am now one of those people you talk about and point to in the grocery store! I look worse than those little old ladies I used to see in the mid 1950’s with the pink hair. Or worse yet … the little old ladies of the mid 1990’s with the maroon colored hair!

I went to my regular barber — yes I said barber. I’ve been going to him for years! He has always done a super job on my hair, which is why I didn’t mind being in a barber shop to begin with!

It was only a secondary thought that there happens to be alot of men there, and of course, it’s another reasonable place to meet men! But, back to the point… I digress!

Saturday I went in for my monthly trim. My barber asked me if I brought the picture with me, since I always showed him the picture of the model I wanted to look like! As always, whenever he cut my hair, he always seemed to come close … at least on the cut anyway.

I told him I had recently misplaced the picture, but I felt that it would be no problem since I knew he knew exactly what I liked.

I described to him again what I wanted done to my hair, describing it just as I recalled about the model’s picture, but slightly different this time. The barber looks at me quizzically, having no clue whatsoever, of the style I’m trying to describe… “Drat, where is that darned picture,” I thought to myself as I fumbled through my purse. “You’d think he’d remember me and the style I wanted!! How many compulsive clients can he possibly have???”

I’m sure my barber had his vacation on his mind; he was leaving that same afternoon. Another client came in and I also think he had him on his mind too, but that’ll have to be another story.

At that point, I was sitting there in his chair, at his mercy. I said, “Just a little off the sides, trim around the ears, make it a cute summer cut, long short hair, just like before, just like the model.”

Well, by the time he got done with my hair, I looked like a wet chihuahua! Don’t get me wrong, I like dogs, even little dogs, but not ON me as a hair style!!

So I complained to my barber, “Terrific, now I look just like a BOY!” I lied. You must understand folks, I couldn’t admit to looking like a dog — my fragile ego would have been cRuShEd if he had agreed!

My barber, being the tease that he is, says, “No, Kathee, you’ll never look like a boy, no way, no how!”

I start thinking about all my little bumps in all the right places. I blush. It shows. I’m feeling pretty darned good about myself right now! Flattered, I paid him, tipped him more than usual this time and left for home.

By the time I got home, I realized I didn’t look like a boy after all. Nor a little wet chihuahua.

I looked like a MORON!

I’ll have to look like this for the next 90 days, till my hair grows out enough to resemble the little pixie cut Mia Farrow sported after she married Frank Sinatra. Gee, am I dating myself or what?

For a humorous hair cut related link, visit the Hair Cut Song web site.

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