When for some reason I can’t see my regular barber, I tend to use one of those chain barber shops. The first time you visit one they want your phone number and address. Once when I went into such an establishment with my wife I said politely to the woman at the counter, “Is this necessary? I just want a haircut.”
The woman was mortified. How dare I say such a thing?! My wife, too, thought my request was beyond rude.
So, due to my schedule last week I couldn’t go to the lady who normally cuts my hair who owns her own joint. So I had to go back to one of those chain stores where I had been before. The first thing the woman at the counter asked me was if I was a “member”. I was and gave her my phone number.
My name popped up and she pointed at the screen to show the lady barber who was going to do my hair. “Oh. You haven’t been to one of our shops since June–eight months ago!” Alas! What could I have been thinking?
The barber directed me to a chair. She had looked at my chart. As I sat down, she asked me, “Do you want the same cut as last time?” I assumed that, having looked at my chart, she obviously knew the kind of cut I wanted.
“Sure,” I said.
When I get a haircut I am not one of those anal-retentive types who sit there micro-managing the process and watching every move the barber makes. In fact, I’m the opposite. Most of the time I will close my eyes and meditate. This is exactly what I did.
The hairdresser/barber got down to business. She ran the clipper through my hair. The sensation dragged me a bit out of my reverie. A second pass. Was that cold air on my scalp? I opened my eyes. And she had pretty much taken the hair off down to bare skin.
It was at this point that I realized that back in June I had taken my son to this chain operation and paid for his haircut. And he does indeed get his hair removed to the scalp when he goes. So what the barber did was look at my chart and saw the haircut my son gets…not the one I get.
So much for computers and digital file keeping.
But I didn’t get upset. I just closed my eyes and went back to meditating. I couldn’t very well get upset with the barber because she had, indeed, asked me if I wanted the same haircut as before. I had ample opportunity to tell her how I liked it, but I just said, “yes” to her question. Totally my fault.
I have to say…I’ve had this kind of scalping before, back when I was a letter carrier. And it is a comfortable haircut when you work at hard labor in hot weather. So it doesn’t bother me. It was just unexpected.
This particular haircut did not take long. ZOOM! ZIP! All the hair gone. So I got up, paid my tab, and tipped the barber. As such haircuts go, she did a good job. It’ll be weeks and weeks before I need another haircut, that’s for sure.
|“You’re a gott-damn genius, Private Gump!”|