January 22nd, 2015


cut cut cut

Tonight I left work at 6 p.m. I decided to get a haircut. I went to my favorite Plano chain outlet with an alliterative name. The woman who cut my hair seemed dubious when I asked for "number three shears". Hair folks live with a healthy respect for the idea of avoiding cutting too much hair. She first tried out the number five shears. To her credit, she realized in a moment that my hair was not sufficiently short with those shears. She switched to number three, and soon my hair was very trim. "It helps to know your shears," she said, and I share her view.

I like that her locale only charges 14 dollars for a haircut, allowing me to tip 5 and still stay under 20 dollars. I liked that "Wheel of Fortune" was playing on the television in the background. I remember in my 20s receiving an apology from a small town barber because prices had skyrocketed from three dollars to three dollars and twenty five cents. My hair, if left unchecked, can go a bit wavy. Its waviness is not the handsome perpetual curly/wavy but merely good old fashioned wavy/unkempt. Hence, I like short hair.

Tonight we ate oven-fried catfish and watched "Elementary" on television.