There's a New Guy at my barber's.
There are very few things I seriously dislike but going to the barber's is one. More precisely, it's having to go to the barber's. I would love to have a head of hair just like this:
But no - I have to trudge along every few weeks to have what little hair I have snipped off. When I do so, I have the following aims:
- take as much off as possible in as little time as possible
- no chitchat
- forget all your training; just cut!
There's a woman barber who thinks she's a hairdresser, an artist. She's full of "I've just trimmed those two hairs so that you can see the gentle sweep of....". I avoid her like the plague. Which is why I was delighted to see New Guy today. he fulfilled all the requirements, as above. I didn't time him (I'm thinking of taking a stopwatch next time and saying to Lady Barber "we stop after five minutes; anything left over will have to do") but it can't have been much more than 5 minutes, I'd say.
I'm so glad I'm not a woman; having to deal with those long, flowing locks would be a nightmare. Although I suppose you could go all Annie Lennox
Anyway, thanks New Guy. No tip though.
See you in a few weeks; I'll be bringing the stopwatch.