Splitting Hairs

I hate getting haircuts. I know this sounds incredibly lazy, but I hate it. I always end up with semi-long hair simply because I do everything I can to avoid getting a haircut. For starters, it’s boring. And it’s boredom that costs money. Those aren’t the most inviting characteristics for an activity to possess. Moreover, I hate making small talk. I don’t consider myself a shy person, per se, but if I don’t know someone, it’s pretty much guaranteed that my brain isn’t going to think of anything to say to them. And I don’t know if hairdressers are trying to put the customer at ease or just trying to keep themselves entertained, but they sure make you feel obligated to say something interesting.

Regardless, I finally got a haircut yesterday. It’s been quite a while and I admit that I’m glad to have it done. But it was a dreadful experience. My hairdresser asked question after question, and I couldn’t help but answer every one of them with an awkwardly non-existent enthusiasm. Here’s a pretty fair approximation of what took place:

Hairdresser: So, what did you do for Memorial Day weekend?
Me: Um, nothing really. Just visited with family.
Hairdresser: Oh yeah? Where do you live?
Me: Um, by the University.
Hairdresser: Hmm. So, what are you studying at school?
Me: Um, well…knowing full well that what I’ve studied in school doesn’t mean anything to most people but realizing that I have nothing else to say, I go for the gusto…I just got a philosophy degree and now I’m studying ancient languages, like ancient Greek and Latin.
Hairdresser: Oh. What are you going to do with that???
Me: Um, hopefully go to graduate school and then teach it. That’s pretty much all you can do with it, I guess.
Hairdresser: Wow, what can you do with that kind of degree if you don’t become a teacher?
Me: Um, good question…trying to think of something more to say than I just said…a lot of people do a philosophy degree before going to law school.
Hairdresser: So is that what you’re going to do? Go to law school?
Me: Um, no. Not really.
Hairdresser: So what are you doing all the way out here in this neighborhood?
Me: Um, I’m just out here visiting my girlfriend.
Hairdresser: Oh, does she live by you?
Me: Um, no…she lives just up the street. (Hence the reason for my being out in this neighborhood, as I just stated!)
Hairdresser: Oh. Is that your girlfriend over there?
Me: Um, yup, that’s her.
Hairdresser: So is your girlfriend happy you’re getting your haircut?
Me: Um, I guess so. She’s nice about it and all, but I think she’ll be happy.
Hairdresser: How long has it been since you’ve had a haircut?
Me: Um, I don’t even know. You probably know better than me…trying to think of something more substantial to say and finally making something up that may or may not be accurate…six months, maybe?
Hairdresser: Probably. Men’s hair grows so much faster than women’s! It would take a woman a year to grow hair this long.
Me: (Polite laughter)
Hairdresser: Can you look down for a moment?
Me: No problem.
Hairdresser: (After a brief moment of silence, she hums along with the radio)
Me: (Silently not humming)

Anyway, that’s about it. I suppose I’m all spiffy and upright looking now, so that’s good. But I’m glad to know it’s over, at least for another few months. Given my genetic predisposition to balding early in life, I guess I should be grateful I even need haircuts. My brother was much balder at 21 than I am at 26 (thanks, Grandpa!) But I suppose that’s another blog for another time. If you’ve been bored by this post, I’m not sorry, I’m sorry to say. After all, that’s what this post was all about. For something more interesting, head over to In the Key of Orange and get in on my newest survey. See you soon.