I’ll Take You To The Barber Shop

The average person gets their hair cut 378 times in their life.

That was a lie. I have no idea.

I ate some hair today. It was delicious.

That was a lie. It was gross.

What am I doing?

Hi, my name is Paul and I went for a haircut today. It was my first haircut in just over three months. I think that’s the longest I’ve gone without a haircut. It started to feel like I was carrying a tree around.

I’d be a terrible woman. How do you do it? If you have long hair, doesn’t it tickle your ears all day? That’s my first question. I have more but I’m embarrassing myself already.

I’m almost 26-years-old 12-years-old and I’ve only had three people cut my hair. Well, four, if you include what my mom did to it when I was a kid. She can’t get the full story out without laughing at how bad my hair looked after she was done with it.

“It looked like a roof!”

And who lived in my house? Hansel and Gretel?

Get it? Because I’m sweet like a gingerbread house.

SHUT UP, PAUL.

My first barber cut my hair until I was about 8-years-old. The electric razor always tickled my face when he did my sideburns and I would move away from it.

The second barber I went to had been cutting my dad’s hair for decades. I’d go there early on Saturday mornings – I’m talking 8am – and that would lead to a trip to my grandparent’s house where I’d find them in the garden picking tomatoes and cucumbers.

I miss those days.

Anyway, the first time I went to that barber, I was around 8 or 9. He finished cutting my hair and asked me if I wanted gel. You know, “to impress the ladies”, or something.

I was a 9-year-old Rico Suave, who’s photo had already been used in a brochure for a restaurant. I was a big deal back then.

Half of that is true.

Alright, listen, I had no clue what gel was. So like any kid, I said “yes”. Then he put this “stuff” in my hair and I’m touching my hair while sitting in the car on the way home and it feels like strands of cardboard tied down with chewing gum, and reinforced by nails that hold down tents.

You could’ve put me in a twister, tornado, and then a car wash – my hair wasn’t moving for anything.

I got home and washed it right out. It was awful.

True story: I’ve never put gel in my hair since then. The only gel I like is Jell-O Pudding.

I’m a one and done type of person. If I don’t like something the first time, that’s it. Never again. I can be stubborn like that. First impressions can also be last impressions.

Sometimes, I come around though. I went my whole life thinking I hated rice because I had it once at a wedding when I was a kid and it was terrible. About two years ago, I found out that I actually love rice.

Who knew?

That barber also gave me a lollipop after each visit. And he’d shake my hand as if I were a man. You know, the whole bro handshake thing. I had no clue what I was doing.

As for the lollipop, I never ate it. I’ve never had one in my life, actually.

I feel like the horse is out of the barn and people are going to yell at me for that. I don’t care.

I’m not a candy person. For me, going Trick or Treating on Halloween was so I could collect Aeros, Jersey Milks, Smarties (which are better than M&Ms, by the way), and Chips. That’s all I wanted.

Have I disgusted every last one of you yet?

Back to hair.

My second barber retired when I was about 19-years-old. Those early Saturday morning car rides, 40 minutes away, stopped.

My third barber is at the local mall, five minutes away. That’s where my first barber was. Different places, though.

I remember going there for the first time and he asked me what I wanted. I’d never been asked that before. Normally, I just sat in the chair and they cut my hair. What’s there to discuss? I didn’t know how to direct.

I just asked for it short all around. It took a few haircuts for us to get on the same page.

Eventually, he realized he didn’t need scissors to cut my hair and now he just uses an electric trimmer(?) Electric razor? Hedge trimmer? Leaf blower?

I don’t know what to call it.

I sit in the chair and all he asks is, “What number?” I ask for a three on top, two on the sides, and one at the back. Go Google “Number 3 haircut” if this is like reading hieroglyphics.

God I love numbers.

And he just goes to work.

I’m the type of person where, if I’m going to get a haircut, I’m going to make it worthwhile. I’m not going in so they can trim my hair to a point where it still looks long. I want it down to the bare bones, so I don’t have to get another haircut in six weeks.

I’ve never been one to style my hair. You won’t see me with no hair on one side of my head, a straight line to act as a divider, like those things you put on the checkout conveyor belt at a grocery store “side part”, and a whole bunch of hair swooped to the other side.

I call that the “Bachelorette contestant” haircut. I don’t like it. It’s not me.

I don’t even flip my hair up. I don’t see the point.

Remember, I’m stubborn, but sweet like a gingerbread house.

I like my hair short. If you run your hands through my hair after I’ve gotten a haircut, it feels like a soft brush. It’s so relaxing.

WHAT AM I SAYING?

I know people don’t like getting a haircut because they find the “small talk” to be awkward. Trust me, I hate small talk as much as the next person, but I’ve never dreaded that.

The people who have cut my hair normally say a few things to me, we have short conversations, and then they just focus on what they’re doing.

When it’s time to wash my hair (this was something new when I started going to Barber #3), I find that to be the most awkward part of the whole thing.

Sitting up after my hair has been washed, is something I haven’t mastered yet. Is there a way to do it where my head doesn’t become a rain cloud and soak my body? I don’t want to bring an umbrella or floaties in there, but I’m close.

My best friend Chris once told me that he went to the barber once and when they washed his hair and applied the shampoo, he moaned. I find that hilarious.

Unfortunately, every time I get my hair washed at the barber now, I have to fight back this giant smile on my face because all I can think about is Chris’ story.

Today was no different. The right side of my mouth was smiling, while I tried to settle down the left side. It was hard. And of course my barber is standing over me wondering what’s so funny.

Thanks a lot, Chris! Because of you I never stray too far from the sidewalk I liked it better when they didn’t wash my hair after cutting it.

Well, that’s all.

Oh, one more thing. I was told today, “Paul, you have hair everywhere.”

Let’s end on that.

If you have any haircutting stories, I want to hear them. Tell me in the comments.

@CappyTalks on Twitter