Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Every summer...

Why, when the barber says "Are you sure?" do I always double down? My signature style (and by style I mean haircut that I've found paves a path of least awkwardness) is a 2 on the sides faded to finger-length on top, faded in back and sideburns to the middle of the ear.

Today, I thought I'd get a 2 all around. This is what happens when the line is too long at your barber's and you get to thinking. Thinking is the worst thing I could be doing at a barber shop. It's taken me years and years of embarrassing failures to learn how to not get the wrong cut. But today I had to get creative; I had to let my mind wander. I just had to read the Times syndicated opinion columns in the local paper.

I should've just stuck to the funnies; the way I stick to cheese enchiladas, tofu pad thai, relaxed cut jeans, and button-down collars. Whenever I deviate from what I've found to not burn me, I end up with a 1 on the sides faded to a 2 on top, with no sideburns.

The barber handed me the mirror when he finished as if I was going to say, "Mmmm, maybe a little bit shorter. I want everyone to be able to read my mind." My head looks like a large kneecap with all my lobes doing what lobes do best, looking weird.