The perils of a cheap haircut.

Since moving to California and away from haircuts that are both suggested and paid for by my Mom, I have been going to the usual cheap chop shops around Stanford. You know Supercuts and The Haircut, not names usually associated with the cutting edge of style. They fit conveniently into the section of my budget set aside for personal grooming (as little as possible), but there are risks involved. The most common pitfall is the language barrier. I find it almost as impossible to tell what countries these women come from, as to determine what they are asking me. And in fact it seems that they have just as difficult a time understanding me. This becomes increasingly important when they are about make changes to the shape your head that will take at least a month or more to recover from. It's a mixed bag. Sometimes I get exactly what I want, and then there's days like today.

I've been getting kind of shaggy lately so today I went to The Haircut for the service so subtlely alluded to by the name of the shop. Now lately I've been having good experiences at the haircut. I've memorized the number of the clipper attachment that I want for the sides and back, and I've learned to just accept whatever length my hair ends up with on top as long as I stress "short." Since all they ladies seem to want to give me the same hair cut, and all they have to do is give me the same haircut I've got when I walk in only shorter, it seems to work out pretty well each time. This time I got a woman I don't remember seeing before. As I was sitting down, she mumbled something about a number 3 buzzer. I told her that I wanted the number 5 for the sides and back, and then she interjected "and finger length on top?" I said yes. She said that we would try the 5 and if I wanted it shorter we could go over it with the 3. "Okay, I guess."

So, she whips out the buzzer, straps on the number 5, and shaves off a strip from behind my ear to the top of my head. While I'm trying to keep my eyes from popping out of my head, she says "Half inch left. Good?" "Yeah. Sure." She proceeds to buzz my whole head except for a four by four inch patch on the front. This patch she then cuts to finger length. "Good?" "Uh... maybe you'd better just buzz the front too." And so she did. And now I've paid 14 dollars for a head of hair that's the same length all the way around. I could have borrowed Patrick's clippers and done the same by myself for free.

Sometimes I can go to The Haircut and get exactly what I'm looking for (provided I'm looking for the standard haircut that they want to give me), this was not one of those times.