- Joined
- Oct 30, 2016
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- Independent
Earlier this evening I realized I needed a haircut. So I made a reservation at the ‘ol Great Clips, where they were showing a 0 minute wait – so yippy skippy I head down there. Now one of the things I like about getting my hair cut is that a woman touches my head. There’s nothing perverted about that – I’m not ashamed to say it feels good.
So I get to ye ‘ol Supercuts and there are only two stylists working. Leticia, the sweet lady who last cut my hair, and Scott, a 65fiveish guy I’ve always managed to avoid getting. So tonight, alas, Leticia was with a customer and good ‘ol Scott was sitting all alone, looking forlorn in his barber chair.
It did occur to me at that point to make some lame excuse and bale – but that would have been too obvious. It also occurred to me to tell Scott I’d rather wait until Leticia was done, but I was paranoid about hurting Scott’s feelings at that point. So **** it, I went and sat down in Scott’s chair.
Now I hadn’t noticed this before, but Scott has a truly amazing speech impediment. He slurs his words and sounds like a drunken person. To make matters worse, I’m slightly hearing impaired and Scott insisted on speaking to me even when the clippers were by my ear. I honestly couldn’t understand a word, I just smiled in the mirror at him and said, “oh?” and “uh huh” a lot. I sure hope I didn’t agree to give him a million dollars!
At one point during the haircut I felt Scott put a lot of weight on the top of my head, then I felt his hand slip off my head, while he exclaimed, “Whoa!”. Now, when someone cutting your hair slips and says, “Whoa”, that’s usually not a good thing. I felt my “fight or flight” instinct kick in.
But all was well. My hair’s fine and so is good ‘ol Scott. The only downside tonight is that I was deprived of a woman’s touch.
Thanks for listening.
So I get to ye ‘ol Supercuts and there are only two stylists working. Leticia, the sweet lady who last cut my hair, and Scott, a 65fiveish guy I’ve always managed to avoid getting. So tonight, alas, Leticia was with a customer and good ‘ol Scott was sitting all alone, looking forlorn in his barber chair.
It did occur to me at that point to make some lame excuse and bale – but that would have been too obvious. It also occurred to me to tell Scott I’d rather wait until Leticia was done, but I was paranoid about hurting Scott’s feelings at that point. So **** it, I went and sat down in Scott’s chair.
Now I hadn’t noticed this before, but Scott has a truly amazing speech impediment. He slurs his words and sounds like a drunken person. To make matters worse, I’m slightly hearing impaired and Scott insisted on speaking to me even when the clippers were by my ear. I honestly couldn’t understand a word, I just smiled in the mirror at him and said, “oh?” and “uh huh” a lot. I sure hope I didn’t agree to give him a million dollars!
At one point during the haircut I felt Scott put a lot of weight on the top of my head, then I felt his hand slip off my head, while he exclaimed, “Whoa!”. Now, when someone cutting your hair slips and says, “Whoa”, that’s usually not a good thing. I felt my “fight or flight” instinct kick in.
But all was well. My hair’s fine and so is good ‘ol Scott. The only downside tonight is that I was deprived of a woman’s touch.
Thanks for listening.