The Haircut

Had a haircut today. I never enjoy haircuts. I’m not very good at small chit chat banter.

Well, that’s not strictly true, I can be, but whenever I go for a haircut it is tricky. I wear glasses – I am shortsighted. My eyesight is pretty piss poor without my glasses (in fact my glasses are so old, the eyesight is pretty shoddy through them too).
When I take my glasses off to get the haircut I can barely focus on the things on the wee shelf in front of me. Being about 4ft from the mirror means (thanks to those lovely laws of physics) the hairdresser is 8ft away from me.
Problem two: When they talk to me, although they are stood very close, I can’t see what they are saying which somehow makes it harder to listen to (maybe I’m going deaf).

And the other problem is this. I have shit hair. If I don’t put wax/gel/custard in it then I have some kind of embarrassing 14 yr old bad haircut (in fact, when I was 14 this description fitted perfectly). My hair just falls into the “please people older than me, beat me up”, although now I can also say “please people younger than me, beat me up”. But after the hairdresser has washed my hair (oh those lovely massaging fingers please don’t stop). She’ll comb my hair forward to purposefully making me look like a tit (and a square, not groovy) thus disarming any of the futile sexual chemistry I’d tried to build up.

She was a lovely and very trendy (but not too trendy) Aussie girl. I felt good, I’m wary of the too trendy mullets and Shoreditch wankers. But I want to at least be slightly cool. This could be a good haircut. I told her what I wanted still long on top, with mad spikiness, short at the sides) which she ignored to give me something else that works just as well. Which is equally pleasing.

I had that moment of panic though. I’d allowed myself to drift off with my free beer and allow her to do the work. When I came to I discovered problem three of the habitual glasses wearer – I can’t see what the fuck she’s doing. I can feel her hacking away very violently. I’m suddenly scared that I am to be the victim of someone who has just been dumped and now hates men.
Then she shows me the double mirror to back of head. So that’s 8ft away, plus another foot behind my head, therefore another out of reflection. The back of my head is now 10ft away from my eyes. I just nod and hope it makes her happy.
But it is a good haircut.

So I am happy