Don’t call it fucking “hair styling” or going to a “stylist” — pushing 60, I’m back to sporting the same haircut I had when I was 6.
Why? Because I’m a man, and if we don’t lose our hair, that’s what we do.
Ohh, I’ve lost plenty of hair, and it’s not the same color as when I was 6. But it’s definitely the “little boys” haircut.
So, I went looking for the quickest, and easiest way to get this over with. Used to do the “barber shop.” But you have a hard time finding those for white guys. Plus, the barbers tend to be other old white guys. In my dirty-old-man dotage, I really don’t want a dude to give me a massage or wash my hair.
Enter, Sports Clips.
Hire young women. Show ESPN. In and out in 20 minutes. Wash optional.
After several years of playing the field, I finally found just the right woman. I didn’t get her name, but the conversation was pleasant; the haircut was good. I have shoes that are older than her, but I figured it was all right, since our relationship was limited to 20 minutes every 2 months. Just business…
Bonus. She had short arms and big boobs.
The first time in her chair I noticed, she didn’t raise it at all. Short arms come with short legs. She sort of tripped trying to walk around my folded up legs and almost landed face first in my lap. An awkward giggle for us both. I left a memorable tip.
At a later visit, as she came around the side of the sink to reach across and get more shampoo, her chest blotted out the light. Another 5-percent on the check.
A few visits later, her boobs were bumping into the back of my head as she trimmed my bangs. These tips seemed to be working…
This may or may not be true, but I swear as she was lining up the sideburns, she dropped one boob on my shoulder and was letting me hold it up for a while. I did not turn my head or lean toward her, but if I did, I think she could have cleaned out my ear.
We ignored the obvious elephant in the room.
That’s a 50-percent tip.
I was a happy customer looking forward to my next cut — maybe I’ll try the triple play? Hair cut, wash and quick shoulder massage…
Next trip the boobs were big, but the belly was bigger. Somehow short arms and pregnant is not the same. My 20 minutes of titillation replaced with constant reminders of responsibility and raising children.
As she was washing my hair, that baby kicked me right in the ear. Lining up the sideburns, it punched my shoulders like the heavy bag. Cutting the bangs, it delivered three taps to the back of my neck. She was growing a little ninja in there.
All 3 of us (me, her and the baby) ignored that too.
Here’s a new conundrum they never taught us in school. I consider myself an Eisenhower Republican. Follow both sides of the economic arguments. In a capitalist society, tips are supposed to reward good customer service. I had built a progressive reward system with the tips growing over time, and it had been working perfectly.
But do I want to reward this little ninja? Boobs brushing the back of my head is not the same as a roundhouse kick to the ear.
Aren’t there too many people on this planet already. Do I want my precious tip money to encourage making more people on a hair cutter’s salary?
Fuck that. “Tips” are compensation. Wouldn’t it be better if everyone tipped more to raise wages for all — especially those with kids. We may not need more people, but we really don’t need any more poor people.
100-percent tip. Call it a shower gift.
And I never saw my hand-picked hair cutter again. Who knows if she quit to stay home — or found a better place to cut hair — or found a new job that paid better?
As for me, I stopped wandering Sports Clips looking for short arms and big boobs. It may have been fun for a couple of months, but nothing good comes without complications. They should teach that shit in school too.
Categories: Sex and Gender