Making the Cut

Certain things in life matter. Some are really big and life changing. Others, much smaller yet just as important. For some it may be as simple as a brand loyalty. Some people only buy certain items over similar or less expensive comparisons. My Father for example would only buy Mobil gas for our cars when I was growing up. Why? Who knows, but it was what he did and made him happy and if for no other reason it mattered to him. For me, it is a haircut. Go ahead, laugh away, but when you find that one person that cuts your hair exactly as you like, it is important. For the past Six and half years I have had my hair cut by Christina. About every two or three weeks I go in for the usual. It is not a fancy place, I don’t need an appointment and it is cheap. My hair grows like a weed and starts to look shabby if I go longer than 3 weeks. Since image is everything in my profession, a good hair cut can mean the world.
Three weeks had came and went long ago since my last cut. I had a very important meeting first thing this morning and making a good impression was crucial. Yesterday I rolled the dice and took a shot that Christina was working (it is nice not needing an appointment, but you need to know their schedule). I walk in, sign my name and time and tell the receptionist chick that I was there for a hair cut with Christina. “Christina isn’t working today”, she told me. What? I asked her to double check the schedule and verify. She again told me that Christina was off and in fact she was on vacation until the 27th of December. This was not good. I did my best to explain to this girl that NO ONE besides Christina had cut my hair in over 6 years. I urged her to call Christina at home or where ever and let her know it was me and that I was in dire need. “Sorry, it is against company policy”, the girl told me. I asked the girl if she could, or would make an exception this one time. I know Christina, if I tell her it is me she’ll arrange to cut my hair. I have been good to her. I have tipped her well. She would surely take an hour of her vacation time to cut my hair. I would make it well worth her while. All of this was racing through my mind. I knew however, talking to this girl or trying to convince her was a loss cause. The manager must have suspected trouble. She came out and asked what the problem was. The manager had seen me in there several times, surely she would understand my situation. I explained my situation to the manager. She too showed no sympathy for my cause. She did however offer to personally cut my hair. In so many words she tried to convince me that no one person is really different from the other. The cut is all about technique that everyone has been taught. Bullshit, I thought. But what choice did I have? I looked like I had been slamming Heroin while sleeping in an alley for the past month. I needed a haircut.

I get in the chair and prepare myself. “Everything will be fine”, I thought over and over. I gave her the skinny on my cut and what I expected. She revved up the clippers and went to begin on the sides. As she went to adjust the number on the clippers, a small boy in the lobby dropped something and it made a loud BANG. She jumped and the clippers dug into and across my scull. An even worse one had just surpassed my worse possible scenario. I hesitantly looked into the mirror and stared at the 4 inch by 4 inch bald spot. No amount of apologies would make this better for me. Sure, it is only hair and it will grow back. But right now I am basically bald (that was the only fix) it is three degrees outside, I have a career dependant meeting on Monday and I am going home for the holidays looking like I just entered basic training. To top it off, I have an oddly shaped and ugly scared head. Again, certain things in life matter.