So I’ve had a few responses to the “cool hair” discussion.  As it were, I sat in the barber’s chair yesterday afternoon unsure of what I would look like when I left.  It always seems to work that way for me.  I know exactly what I want to look like, yet I never quite get there.  I have this image in my mind of looking like a million bucks when I leave, and then there is that “moment of truth” when the barber holds the mirror up to show you the front and back.  And then I realize that I’ll be walking out looking like five bucks instead of million.

I hate that part.

Because in the end, if the guy took too much off, I still end up saying “looks good” even though my heart just sank and I have to wait a 2 – 3 more weeks before I’ll have a fighting chance to go after the “cool” again.  It’s funny how I don’t have the nerve to tell him how I really feel.  And to make matters worse, I tip him anyway even though I’m unhappy.  It’s the double-whammy.  It’s like saying, “Thank you sir, may I have another?!”  I have to just take it like a man and walk out dejected. 

Actually I’m pretty certain he was making fun of me in Vietnamese as he was sculpting his work of non-art on my head.  He kept talking to his buddy cutting the other guy’s head and laughing and then he would answer his cell phone and talk on the phone while snipping away.  And I had no clue what he was saying.  People who laugh with sharp object in their hands make me somewhat tense and nervous; especially when they’re laughing with a sharp object near my cool hair.  I think I pulled a muscle just sitting in the chair.

And the crazy thing is.

I always come back for more.  It’s a good thing I grabbed that lollipop out of the bowl on the way out….

Now to go catch glimpses of myself in my Kia Rio’s rearview mirror for the next several hours when no one is looking …