Barber phobe


In the last few days I have had several people ask me why I shave my head.  Is it philosophical?  No.  Did I take a vow?  Uh-uh.  Am I going bald?  Nyet. 

Ok – here it is.  The big secret about why I shave my head… (drumroll please)

I don’t like haircuts.

There.  I said it.  There are obvious reasons, like they cost too much… and my hair grows so quickly that I have to have it cut about every ten days.  But the reasons are deeper.  I mean think about a trip to the barber:

Being enshrouded in a cape and having my eyesight removed (I’m blind as a bat without my glasses) then having a relative stranger set into my head with sharp implements.  Childish you say?  Well as you sit there in the chair, armless and squinting, some early twenty-something converses with the next chair about the bar scene last night while doing serious, almost certainly regrettable, things to the top of your head.

And every cutter I seem to get (almost always the new guy they call "Thumbs" or "Lefty") always gives me the cut HE wants to give, regardless of what I ask for.  And there is nothing I can do about it!  (What – glue the hair back on?)  So the whole experience is rather unpleasant for me…enough so that each morning I break out razor and soap and in just a couple of minutes, render the barber obsolete.

Go ahead and laugh… I think you’re next up with "Thumbs"!


One thought on “Barber phobe

  1. I wish I could shave my head. Unfortunately, my head has divots and grooves in it, like someone went at me with a garden rake.

    I’m stuck with thumbs…….

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