Just a Trim

That’s what I say every six months when I go to get my hair cut. I know, I only go every six months, but that’s all I can handle of the hair cut routine.

I have had the same hair lady since I was a sophomore in high school. She is sweet and we have seen each other through some major life changes – college, my wedding, her divorce, new homes, new careers, new puppies, and her new husband. She hasn’t charged me more that $35 for a wash, cut, and style since I was sixteen.

When I see her I feel obliged to “chat”. I am not good at chatting. If we were friends sitting around on a comfy couch munchin’ on some goodies then fine. But that’s the thing, we’re really not friends and we only see each other for a mere hour every six months. How do you chat about the last six months of your life with someone you won’t see for another six?

She seems better at it than I am, but go figure its what she does. Sometimes she makes me feel guilty with her above average chatting skills. She remembers details of what we chatted about six months ago and asks detailed questions regarding what she remembers and I, for the life of me, can’t remember a thing.

She may be too good at the chatting thing though, because “just a trim” always ends up to be much more. She seems to get carried away in one story or another and just keeps snipping away. Just when I think she should be finishing up, she starts another story and I lose another inch. I have thought about booking a factious appointment in the slot right after mine in hopes that she gets down to business, resulting in less chatter and me walking out with more of my hair.

Regardless of the endless chatter and excessive snipping, I am stuck with her. I don’t think I can break-up with my hair lady. I have though about finding someone closer to home or just going to the generic Super Cuts where chatting isn’t required, but a feeling of infidelity always comes over me. I wonder if I were to be unhappy with a new person cutting my hair and tried to return to my lady, would she take me back? Would my hair give itself away and could she tell that I had been seeing someone else? That would definitely be awkward, thus making me a more pitiful chatterer.

Well hair lady, I’m good for another six months. Maybe I should write down stuff we talked about today and make notes for “chatting” next time. But really who am I kidding, you’ll chat and snip and I’ll sit there and our routine will continue like it has for the last 12 years.