It's that time again. The time that the ol' locks need some trimmin'. They've gotten a little bit out of control lately and the thing that was on the top their Christmas list was a little bit of love and attention.
I've mentioned before about the fear I feel when I walk into a hair salon. I still feel that the people who work there look at my long hair as though it were a big juicy steak that they're dying to slice into. With a butcher's knife. That fear still exists. But in addition to fear, I also have an all around feeling of awkwardness. I walk in, the woman at the desk says "hello", and the rest of my stuttering goes something like this... "Um... Hi. I need a haircut. So... I came to the hair cuttery. Because you cut hair, and I need my hair to be cut. Could you cut my hair?" It would be so much simpler if I could just walk in, and since it is a hair cutting salon they could just assume I'm there to get my hair cut, and greet me with something like "Hi, you're here for a haircut, right? Sit down right there." Would save a lot of awkwardness.
Well, thankfully there were no butcher's knives handy and it turned out quite nicely.