get a haircut and get a real job

I was getting the coif done on Friday at the Wilson Blvd. Barber Shop and I realized that even though I like the work of both barbers - they are different in their approaches to my pate needs. Faraj (owner-operator) has taken the admirable stance of deciding that if I'm actually going to man-up and grow my hair out than he'll perform nothing but a light trim. I'd think the term might be a dusting...maybe a waving of the implements of barberdom near my head. He does a fantastic job around the edges but he's fully commited to letting me suffer the wrath of my thick hair. Habib (ambassador-operator), on the other hand, is a little more consoling in my search for hair utopia. He spends the requisite amount of time working the equipment around the sides and back: trimming, brushing, trimming some more, cleaning up the the details, trimming some more, and then...the thinning shears. That is what saves me from looking more like a goofball than I already do. I told Kt today that what signals an overdue haircut is when I start to notice the exploding, animated blockhead formed by my shadow - something must done. The hilarity of my shadow as I walked from Metro to bus Friday morning was a real kneeslapper. Kids ran screaming, chicks thought I was a creature from Arlington, the bus driver let me ride for free!

As Habib finished up with the 'do he went to great pains to let me know, and show me, that I need to use hair product to keep everything in order. Hair product? The last time my hair sported product was in the early 80s.

T.