Wednesday, August 1, 2012

I gotta re-think the barbershop thing

I have to give a presentation to an advertiser this afternoon, so I decided to get a haircut over my lunch hour.

I never go to a salon, because I feel like I'm paying extra for the pampering and preening and faux artistry. I just want a haircut, not a day at the spa. I don't want it shampooed. I don't want it blowdried. I want it to take 10 minutes and cost $20 and get back to work.

So I went to a regular old barbershop near my office. And I really should've known better simply by looking at the hairstyles of the 95-year-old men who work there. But I went in and said, "Just a trim." And I came out with a 1990s Rudy Guiliani combover and reeking of that crap that 95-year-old barbers  like to use. Cod liver oil? Saddle wax? Formaldehyde?

I got back to my office and went straight to the restroom to rinse all the crap out of my hair and muss it back up so it looks halfway normal. But it doesn't.

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