My $5 Dollar Haircut

By sovknight | March 19, 2008

There’s a new barber school in Midvale. It’s right behind the jewelry store, and a short walk from my apartment. Having the misfortune of looking in the mirror this morning and noting my amusing appearance, I thought maybe a haircut would be just the trick.

Now, I don’t much care for my hair. That’s not to say that I don’t take care of it. I wash it daily and occasionally condition it, then I comb it and style it and pretend that it looks decent. But I don’t obsess over it. It’s not worth it, because my hair has a mind of its own. I may get out of the shower and style it up all nice, maybe a dollop of gel, but as soon as I look from the mirror it’s poof city. Seriously, I have no control. It pretty much does what it wants at that point, so while I may think “Brad Pitt” when preening in the mirror, my hair is perfectly happy styling itself into a reject prop from a Wendy’s commercial once I turn away.

So I don’t obsess. These days I tend to wear it kinda longish and floppy. It gives me a more youthful appearance (in my own mind) and means I can be lazy and not get it cut for months at a time. I’m capable of trimming it up a bit myself, courtesy of the clippers I bought a few years ago and a smidgeon of knowledge passed on from my stylist mother. I draw the line at actually cutting it though, save for the times during the summer when I just buzz it all off. Several Attractive Females have the opinion that I look better with the hair though, so in my misplaced vanity I do my best to abstain from shaving it anymore.

Since I lack the skills (read: bravery) to cut it myself, and because it started to resemble a wildlife preserve, I decided to get it cut. There are two more factors in this decision. One, it was a beautiful Spring-like day and I could take a nice walk down to the place, and two, haircuts are only $5.

Haircuts are only $5 there because it’s a school. A Barber school, and the barbers are students. Some people might balk at this, thinking there’s no way some under-skilled student is going to touch my lovely thatch, but I have no such reserves. If they butcher it, I’ll just buzz it. Easy and simple. I’m a guy; hair isn’t a huge deal unless it’s thinning.

The girl I got seemed confident at first. Eager and willing to put her hard-earned knowledge to the test. I sat down and outlined what I wanted in direct and specific guy terms. “Take some off the sides and make it un-poofy,” said I. She seemed to understand. Her instructor (older guy with pretty hair) hovered about as well, occasionally peering over at her progress, peeking from under his glasses and giving the sporadic “uh huh” at times. What interested me is that once she started, some of that confidence waned. Instructor Guy took over and gave a few example snips, demonstrating the proper technique, and she seemed to follow. I did notice a peculiar tendency to cut too little though, as she would run the comb through to gather up a pinch of hair, then cut like .0000009-tenths of an inch off of one strand. Instructor Guy’s only comment was “She’s one of our most careful ones.” Uh huh.

After about twenty minutes or so, she pronounced me done. Honestly, it didn’t really look any different than when I went in. It feels slightly different, maybe trimmed up and straightened out a bit, which is subtle but not wrong. Upon further inspection, it does appear to have been cut, although I could stand to lose a bit more. Even so, I’m happy with it. I thanked her (she let out a relieved sigh, as if she’d been nervously holding her breath the entire time) and paid my $5 to the receptionist, with a $2 tip to the student. I even let them add me to the client list, thinking I’ll likely be back next time.

Five dollars isn’t a bad deal at all.

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