On Haircuts

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I recently got my hair cut. You know, there’s nothing quite like going in as one person and walking out feeling like somebody entirely new—lighter, freer, happier

Of course it always feels nice to look nice, doesn’t it? Funny how something like that never really seems to go out of style…

I drove myself to my usual haircut place and signed in. I plopped down on the nearby waiting-area couch while an old episode of “The Office” played on the TV. I snatched up a few old issues of Entertainment Weekly so as to catch up on the latest from tinseltown.

I caught myself glancing over a few times—to pilfer a glimpse or two at those getting haircuts. It was amazing to see the many different transformations taking place right before my eyes.

I returned to my intermittent reading, and snatches of Dwight and Jim’s pranks as well.

“Teachinfourth?”

The sound of my name drew me from my other world—reading up on the latest in box office record-setters, and the duds. It had finally come to be my turn to sit upon the ascending and descending throne.

The barber quickly ascertained which type of style I was going for and then set to work, deftly orchestrating both scissors and buzzers; her hands flying with lightning speed.

I glanced around at those who were waiting for their own turn at renovation; that’s when I noticed that I was being watched. However, each time I looked toward someone who’d been looking at me, they’d quickly look away and pretend that they hadn’t been looking at all.

This really does seem to be the human condition, doesn’t it? You know, that general feeling of discomfort making eye contact with those to whom we do not speak or know. I thought about this as Emily continued to cut my hair and chatted on about this, that, and the other.

It was that that moment that I decided to that the next time I managed to make eye contact with someone who’d been watching me, I’d smile at them…maybe wink, too. Really it would be brilliant; an entire species of look-awayers would be freed from their shackles; they’d realize that looking at someone was really okay. However, there was a problem…by the time I’d discovered someone looking and managed to crack a smile, the person had already looked away, pretending that they’d just been glancing around the room.

Curses.

I thought about just staring at someone until they looked at me, and then giving them a charming smile. I changed my mind…something like that would be uber-creepy and that was most definitely not what I was going for.

All too soon my haircut was finished. My alteration was complete. Emily was vacuuming up the last-minute cleanups.

I made another quick scan around the waiting room, hoping to catch someone off-guard. Like onlookers at a crash scene, they looked away when my eyes swept over them.

Perhaps next time I’ll have better luck.