Just a Little Off the Top
A haircut with an education
She draped the cape over my chest and asked in a voice resembling Frances McDormand in Fargo, “So, what are we doin’ today, then?”
Sitting on the scissors end of a new haircutter makes me anxious.
You never know how much they’ll want to visit or whether you’ll go home with a chop job or get scalded by that garden hose they use to wash your hair.
When you find a cutter with the credentials and talent to tame middle-aged thinning hair like mine, it’s wise to hold onto them.
Once I realized she was the manager, my breath regained rhythm. I knew I was in good hands. Nobody hacks their way to the top in the hair business, especially in a cutthroat market like Grand Forks.
After reviewing the planned program1, Sharon Scissorhands spun my chair toward the mirror and set to work.
I almost shouted a Ric Flair "Woo!" when she apologized for being tired and not in a chatty mood. Attempting to disguise my excitement, I chirped, “That’s perfect. I’m not big on haircut talk, anyway.”
Giddier than Kathy Lee Gifford after a boob job about the upcoming forty minutes of silent grooming, I grinned and winked at my mirrored self.
This is your day, champ.
As I settled in, my beautician asked if I liked her new Brümate insulated mug.
Wait, what? What happened to her tiredness and non-chatty mood?
“Yeah, I got it yesterday. It’s my new fave. Don’t you adore this shade of blue?”
What was she on about? I thought we’d struck a deal.
“Brümate is a much better value than Yeti, and they don’t leak like those overrated Stanley mugs.”
Heavens to Betsy. It was not my day after all.
“Scheels can’t keep these on the shelves. You HAVE to get one.”
Over the next 41 minutes, I learned more about insulated mugs than any man should know. I also learned about her car, what she loves about it, and why many mugs are scattered across the backseat.
She showered me with more mug tidbits, mentioned how many wisdom teeth she had left, and told me what her husband likes for breakfast before walking me through her family tree.
Before I could fully dissociate, I learned her best friend works on the other side of the barbershop, with whom she proceeded to share a max-volume conversation about, you guessed it, insulated mugs.
Our verbal contract to be non-verbal was officially terminated. Null and void.
Clean-cut and topped off with mug knowledge, I stood up and shuffled to the counter, forgetting to inspect her work.
I paid the tab and let her sound waves usher me out the door.
Still shaken and confused about how she had pulled this fast one on me, I shimmied into my truck and flipped down the visor to assess my fresh doo.
Shit.
It's probably the best haircut I’ve ever had.
Slick-backed undercut, kind of like the Peaky Blinders guy. No, not Oppenheimer; Oppenheimer’s brother, the crazy one. Oh, and don’t take too much off the top because I’ll cling to these last few hairs if it kills me. Why not throw in a nose and ear wax? These areas demand a lot of attention for a guy nibbling on forty.
Not big on haircut talk or just talk. Period 🤣. Man this had me giggling today. Thanks!
Oh my gosh! You really nailed this! I get a trim every two months and go through the same thing! I love my stylist but feel obligated to “catch up” on family matters etc. Last week she admitted to not reading the news and told me that she loved having me come in because I was her education. We actually talked about racism. Pros and cons to haircuts.