Where's Ice Cube When You Need Him?

I’m always kind of scared to get my haircut somewhere I’ve never been before. I fear some sort of follicle disaster that will leave me looking like Nick Nolte or Edward Scissorhands. I recently moved so I can’t go to my old barbershop. It’s been over a month, which is entirely too long, and as Leslie so kindly put it I “look a mess” so I figured it was time to find a new place. While wondering around the new neighborhood recently I found a barbershop conveniently located about a few blocks away so I decided to give it a try. I was sort of hoping it would be like the movie because I think that would be an amazing for me. Unfortunately it wasn’t, just a very small barbershop, two chairs and two little Asian women cutting dudes hair. I had to wait for a few minutes so I started to peruse the magazine selection, that’s when I notice something was amiss. I’ve personally have never seen porn mixed in with the usual Maxim’s and Sports Illustrated’s of a normal barbershop. This sort of made me wonder if there weren’t some other more unsavory activities going on behind the scenes that I don’t know about. I was pretty skeptical but decided to press on. When it was my turn to step up I was super nervous. I sat down, got my little hair smock thing on and she just started going to town without even asking what I wanted. Although after a few snips she did say, “Short in back and sides?” and I said, “Um, I guess.” I’m not really an argumentative sort, and really I’m not terribly picky so I just went with it. The only problem being that she had me facing away from the mirror the whole time. Is there anything more unsettling than having a women flailing away at your head when you can’t even see what’s happening? Oh there is one thing; when they use the straight razor to shave your neck after they’re done cutting your hair. This is terrifying to me. First off I have a mole on the back of my neck and I’m always afraid it’s going to get lopped off, and I’m certain that thing would be a bleeder. Second, I always feel like my life is in this little Asian women’s hands at that point, one flick of the wrist and I’m totally assassinated. But I made it out alive so here is an anticlimactic ending to a bad story: the haircut turned out ok. It’s a little higher and tighter than normal but that’s fine, it’ll grow back in no time. For now, as a friend would put it, I’m baby hair Eric. Basically I look like an eleven year old who may or may not have been able to get a handjob after my haircut. Which is weird.