And I'm not paying two bits for a shave, either

Hey. I came in here for a haircut, ok? I did not pay twenty-five dollars for “styling” or “a trim.” Cut means cut, alright?

I want to see scissors out and flashing. I want to hear the snip-snip-snip of those sharpened shears. Take out that spray bottle and start spritzing.

When I say “I want it shorter” that’s what I mean: shorter. I’m not sitting in this chair wearing a ridiculous backwards cape so you can see exactly how close you can get to my hair without actually touching it.

I want a hair cut. I don’t want an eighth of an inch here, a sixteenth of an inch there. Stop using fractions! Take the whole inch, take two inches if it’s that long.

Because let me tell you, if my hair’s long enough that it can lose two inches? it is Way. Too. Long.

So get cutting. And don’t look all confused at me in the mirror when I say “a little more off the sides and back, and shorter on the top and front.”

This is what I’m paying for, lady.

To be honest, I have never been really happy with a haircut received from a woman “stylist” or “hair care professional” or “barber” or whatever. Where’s the men at? At least with a guy you get some precision, some action.

“You want short? How short? Real short, or straight-edge?... Real short? OK, done.”

And then, bam. He grabs your hair and just starts whaling on it. Hacking til it’s down to a fingerwidth of your scalp. None of this “We’ll take a little off the top, then a little off the sides, and see how it lays…then a little more off the top to see if it complements your face, then a little more off the sides…are you sure you want it that short? Maybe we just leave it like this, ok?”

NO. Not ok. I said short because I know my hair looks good short. And because I know it’s starting to look ridiculous now. I do not want you to take a micrometer off of every strand of hair, one-at-a-time, and then have to pay another thirty bucks to have you do it again next week because it’s too long again.

Here’s your money, see you in two months. Three if I get lazy.

That’s not to say every haircut I’ve received from a guy has gone well.

Case in point: I was duped into going to a “nice” hair salon (by none other than Johnny Sapphire) where instead of cutting my hair the “stylist” basically dumped a jar of goo on my head, mussed it around and charged me fifty bucks. Not only was my hair still too long and unstyled but the very next person I asked told me that “No, your hair doesn’t look bad, what were you, swimming?.” Jackass.

Which brings me to my next point. What is with the freaking hair products?!?!”

When you, hair-cutter, ask “Do you use any product in your hair?” and get “No” as an answer do not take it upon yourself to unilaterally decide that, “Yes, I think “product” is a good decision and should be applied very liberally to your entire head!”

It is not a good decision. I don’t like it. And what the hell are you using in that salon, instant concrete?! First of all, two handfuls of anything is too much of it, and when you’ve just, (according to my wishes) (even though they go against every unnatural instinct you’ve had forced into you in “styling school”) begrudgingly, cut my hair to within an inch and a half of its life those two handfuls of “product” will last me until next December, and should not be glopped onto my head!

I do not like my hair to crackle. I am not a statue of marble or steel. I would like my hair to, you know, move if there’s a breeze. Hair is supposed to get messed up if there’s a gust of wind, not whistle.

GAH.

All I’m looking for is a person with a pair of scissors and a comb that I don’t have to go seventeen rounds with to get my hair cut. It’s not difficult, it’s not tricky, just make it shorter!

And I’ll be back in a couple months.
-t