Before running on National Running
Day, before walking a half marathon for my birthday, and even before the
Assaultive Behavior Management class, first came THE dreaded HAIRCUT. If by any
chance you have followed this blog for awhile, you would already know about my
searching high and low for a barber. Too many times or more often than not,
barbers have left me dissatisfied with the way they have done their abstract
designs on my noggin.
A couple of weeks ago after leaving
work and shopping for groceries, I was on my way home when I espied that one of
the barbershops I’ve used in recent
months was open and had no customers yet. So I stopped and had a haircut. Using
my previous description at another barbershop about how I wanted my hair done,
I told the barber that I wanted the sides shaved to the skin halfway up, then a
fade and taper the rest of the way. The difference this time was that I told
him not to take any off the top because when the last barber did it, my hair
remained spiky for several months. And away he went buzzing here and snipping
there a la Edward Scissorhands but with an electric razor. And VOILA! When he
was done, it appeared that , I finally got lucky and got what I consider to be
a proper haircut. Once in a rare while, the barber gets it right. So much so
that I asked him to take a picture with me which made it look like Sweeney Todd
getting ready to slaughter his next victim.
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