You wait anxiously, realizing that this experience could make or break your next few weeks or even months. You’re putting your appearance into someone else’s hands and a variety of blades and plastic sticks held in them. You have a picture you go by, so nothing can go wrong, right!? This is going to be fine. This hairdresser can’t be as bad as the last.
You approach your seat and you hand them the picture, pointing out the most imperative parts. The hairdresser stands there smiling and nodding, making you feel quite at ease. They answer back with “ok” and “so, like this?” and then lock your hands down with a circular cloth. Out comes the electric razor. As quickly as it appears, it disappears behind your head, as you feel it slice through your locks. It has begun.
Getting a haircut can be the utmost traumatic experience for any person, male or female. You know for a fact that something is going to get messed up and if all is done right, a complete miracle has occurred. Since cutting hair is apparently the equivalent of brain surgery, and matching a picture, and translating paragraphs of explanations to one’s head, is like walking a tight-rope, you can expect that your ideal haircut might as well be a far-fetched dream. Instead, as you sit on a swiveling seat, you face a living nightmare.
I’m writing this article very bitter, as my last haircut appears on my head as a careless, negligent, miserable, mess! No offense to any hairdressers coincidentally reading this article, as perhaps you have yet to cut my hair and are actually good at your practice. Unfortunately for me, I have yet to find any hairdresser capable of doing a simple men’s cut/trim. A task in which, if I put aside time, can do by myself at home (which is now exactly what will be done)! Hopefully this will ensure “Hairicanne Katrina” won’t hit me over the head again.
So here’s my story (as I’m sure many can relate). I am going away this weekend for a week-long trip with some friends. Knowing my friends are going to take a million pictures, and my desire for something easy to maintain, I went to go get my hair trimmed. Here’s what happened. It got thinned front to back and cut at a thousand various lengths, so it seems as if running into a tornado may have been the better choice. On top of looking like a mangy cat is resting on my head, I have to look at that $20 cat in the mirror for the next month or so. My friends have already told me that I look like a complete idiot, and I couldn’t agree more.
I do know that hair grows back, but I don’t think I have ever felt so horrible about what grows from my scalp! Hair gives someone a sense of confidence and mine was recently crushed. I look horrible in hats and super short hair; and I also have two jobs where I meet and greet people. I’m about to embark on a trip that will include tons of pictures, which I can only look back on with a frown at how horrid my hair is. I feel like hibernating in my room for a long time. Drinking excessive amounts of liquor. Sleeping until it grows back. Running to “Masc” to buy their hair growth products! Anything to conceal this predicament! I’m in shambles. (Feel free to share your stories as well in the comment box below, preferably if they are worse)
“If there is a gay uniform, the differences are in how each man coordinates the details: the brand and cut of the jeans, the design of belts and boots, the haircut, the number and size of earrings.” – Lance Loud
Submitted By: Wade H.
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