Why can't I get a decent haircut?

A very good friend of mine once told me a joke that he heard from a comedian many moons ago. "I've never had a good haircut. The good haircut comes in about two weeks later." Meaning that it starts to look good after your hair has grown a little bit. This joke seems appropriate this week because I've just gotten my haircut and it looks "alright" and "fine" but it's not "wow." In fact, rarely have I been 100% ecstatic about how my hair has turned out after it has been professionally coiffed. And this phenomenon has gone on for years. Allow me to take you on a journey.


It starts with the fact that children are incredibly cruel to each other. They say and do terrible things in order to assert their dominance. (Adults are the same way, we just try to be a little more subtle about it. Most of the time anyway.) Add to this fact that my family didn't have a lot of money when I was growing up and the maintenance of the proper length of my hair was never high on the priority list. Which was fine with me, except for the relentless comments that came whenever my hair got a little too long for the establishment's comfort. The most popular of them being the derogatory term for an Afro known as a "bush." So periodically, I had to walk around with my "bush," suffering the slings and arrows of outrageous put-downs until the family decided that enough was enough and made the effort to take me to the barber shop.


Which brings me to the flip side of the story. I can't stand barber shops. I really can't. It's like they took every person in the planet who makes me feel socially uncomfortable and put them in one small place for me to enjoy the pleasure of their company for about an hour or so. Longer if there's a line. To this day, I still get a mild panic attack every time I have to go into a barber shop. It truly is the opposite of a fun experience.


For one thing, I've always been a larger than average person in the height department. So whenever I would walk into a barber shop, I was greeted with expressions of amazement. On top of that, any respectable barber shop in the "hood" will have a barber who is a notorious ball-buster. So not only would I walk in with everyone in the place staring at me, but I would also be greeted with some boisterous comment from the ring leader like, (all together now) "You must play basketball." You then couple that with the fact that, since my hair was usually pretty long when I did go to the barber's, there was always some commentary on that issue as well. I don't mind people having opinions, I just don't need to hear every single one of them.


Next is the order in which people are served. It's not like there's a ticket that you take and then they call you in an orderly manner. Au contraire. You have to bust in and demand who is the last person in line and then claim your spot. Otherwise complications may arise. Like the time I nearly got into a fight with some guy over who was supposed to be next. It didn't get physical because I am an artist not a fighter, but I did learn a valuable lesson about barber shop etiquette.

Then there's the actual process of getting the haircut. In my humble opinion, it is the equivalent of a slow form of torture. It just takes a really long time. And I'm always afraid for some bizarre reason that the barber is just going to stop in the middle of the haircut, kick me out into the street, and leave me there. I'd be standing in the street with half of my hair neatly cut and the other half looking shaggy. Like some jacked-up art school student.


Secondly, I've always been against having the barber "shape up" the front of my hairline. That's basically when he takes a razor or the clippers and makes a straight line going across my forehead. I personally find it cliche. I also don't like feeling the barber's knuckles on my forehead which he does in order to steady his hand to make the line straight. It just feels creepy. As a result, every time I go to a new barber, I have to argue with him about keeping a natural hairline. I think this style offends them to the core because they tend to be a bit incredulous about the concept.


Lastly, it is impossible for them to get the length just right. I don't want to cut it too short because I like having hair and I like showing people that I have hair. I don't want it too long because then it's starts looking a little "Kid-n-Play." So it's a very delicate operation and I don't feel that my barber truly understands all of the nuances that go into it. Not to mention the fact that I don't actually help my cause by explaining all of these nuances that I've manufactured to the very person who can do something about it. But if they truly loved what they did, I shouldn't have to tell them. They should just know.


My current barber is a guy whose shop is literally in the same building where I live. He's a decent fellow and he does a decent job. The only problem is, I can't stand getting my hair cut from him. For one thing, he talks constantly. He never stops. If he's not talking to me, he's talking to someone else in the shop. If he's not talking to someone else in the shop, he's talking to someone on the phone. He makes 20-minute haircuts take about 35 minutes. Then there's the cavalcade of characters that make an appearance whenever I'm there. There's the guy whose always selling something from jackets and DVDs, to bottles of vodka. He's like that guy on, "Good Times," who would open his coat and display various products for sale. And then there's the other people who aren't actually waiting to get their hair cut. They just have a lot of free time on their hands.


So I will now answer the next logical question: Doggy Style. Oh, you didn't want to know my favorite sexual position. Sorry. Why do I still go to this barber shop? I still go to this barber shop because it's really close and it's never crowded. But this is the biggest reason of all: It's not pretentious or assuming.


Yes, believe it or not, barber shops can be very pretentious. I've never been big on the latest style of cut or the terminologies that go along with it. And the barber shop that's right next door to mine is filled with young barbers who are, "in the know." I went in there one time and asked for my usual cut. Half off the top, close on the sides. The barber responded with, "You want that tapered?" (Again with the tapered. Nothing good is tapered.) Instead of displaying my ignorance and asking what the hell did he mean, I said okay. It turned out to be the worst haircut of my life. Worse than the time I had this guy practically shave my head. (That's another very long story) Needless to say, I didn't go back.


So I stick with my guy. He does a decent job and every time I go in we become much better at communicating with each other. He has fully accepted my lifestyle choice of natural hairline and I have accepted that his views on men and women are "quaint" despite the misogynistic overtones. Maybe he'll even inspire a character that I will write. The important thing is that it is the most comfortable place in a tremendously uncomfortable situation. I accept them for the urban yokels that they are, and they accept me for the potential serial killer that I am. And I think that's all that any of us can ask for.