Despite CareerMom having been gone all week, and despite my having not gone into the office–not once–the entire week, I’m happy to report that I have managed not to let myself “go” too much. I did manage to bathe (daily) and I even shaved once or twice.
But with her coming home tonight, I thought it best that I freshen up a bit and that included getting a much-needed haircut. Now, I normally go to a place called “American Haircuts.” They’re a small-ish chain and they’re kinda like a fusion of old-school barber shop meets modern-day salon, and they’re geared towards men. If there was any doubt of that, the football paraphernalia and the antique sign saying, “Hippies leave out the back door–No Exceptions!” will put any doubts to bed.
But, after being rather rudely greeted and then sitting around for nigh on ten minutes waiting on someone–anyone–to explain to my why two stylists were sitting in their booths gabbing while I was waiting, I lost patience and left.
My health club has a spa attached and they had a sign up for a $20 haircut, which coincidentally, is the same price I pay at the guy place (note: I think I remember when I paid $11 for a haircut…ah….). Anyway, I made an appointment to get my hair cut there right after my workout. I knew I’d be sticky and hot, but it was darn convenient, so hey!
When I walked in, toting my gym bag, the receptionist told me I’d be with “Kirk.” Kirk promptly showed up, introduced himself and then I followed him back to his area where he sat me down and proceeded to put this shiny “Graham Webb” hair deflector over my already sweaty body.
Now guys, barring say…a yearly prostate exam, is there anything more uncomfortable than having another guy cut your hair? OK, well, maybe having another guy massage you, but other than those two things?
So, I’m sitting there and I’m looking at this guy outta the corner of my eye. He has a big upper body, but a gut; not unlike an ageing weight lifter, but he’s not that old. So maybe he used to work out, then started cutting hair and stopped? What made him stop?
These things were running through my mind and more:
“Is he gay? I mean, he doesn’t dress all THAT well, so maybe not. What? He’s talking about how “anal” he is about his own hair? Well, fastidiousness isn’t a crime. Buuuuttt, it does tend to go with “that crowd.” Hmmm…keep the conversation light. Don’t use the word “wife” too much or, if he IS gay, he might take offense to the fact that I’m obviously uncomfortable here. But…don’t NOT say anything; that’s rude! Crap…”
doo dee doo…
Man, that scalp massage feels really good. I wonder if it would feel just as good if a woman were doing it…do I care? If I don’t care…what is that saying about me? OMG! I totally sweated all over his vinyl chair! Will he think I was all nervous?
Gel? No…well, yes, I would like some gel. Is that gay?
(end of narraration)
Ladies. Do you see what men have to go through in today’s society? Are there lesbian hair stylists at upscale hair salons? If so, does it bother you?
Am I just a freak?