Recently I decided to go for a haircut, as my hair was starting to resemble the kind of undergrowth you expect to find on a forest floor. Unfortunately I had yet to settle on a regular barber. So I decided to see what barber shops are available in my area, picked a conveniently located one, and off I went. At first all appeared rather normal. Four barber chairs lined up in front of a wall-length mirror, and three barbers attending to the masses. And when I say masses, I mean masses! I had to wait quite some time before my turn finally arrived. I felt a sense of confidence growing in my chest. Yes! If they are this popular, they must do a good job!
My turn finally arrived, and I plonked myself down in the barber's chair. Because explaining what I want takes too long, I usually whip out my ID book which contains quite a nice picture of my regular hairstyle. The barber squinted at it and then proceeded to trim my hair with a pair of scissors. What concerned me is that the snipping never stopped! Not even while the scissors weren't in contact with my hair. Even while examining my hair from a different angle and thus not actually cutting anything, the barber would keep making snipping motions with the scissors! I wondered if he was about to go all Sweeney Todd on me!
Thankfully he did not resemble Johnny Depp and I couldn't spot Helena Bonham Carter anywhere, so that made me feel slightly better. Especially after he then set the constantly moving scissors down and grabbed his clippers. Things were going well! This was familiar territory! I relaxed into the chair as he set about further trimming my wild mane. Eventually he asked if I was happy and then whipped out a cut-throat razor. All of my Sweeney Todd nightmares came flooding back! Especially since he then pulled out a leather strap from under my chair and proceeded to sharpen the blade on it. I didn't dare move as he started cleaning the stubble from my neck using his razor! I felt certain that, if he sneezed, their walls would become an interesting shade of red, and I would fall gently onto the floor in a puddle of my own bodily fluids! But no, he expertly wielded his weapon, and by the end of it all it was the closest shave I have ever experienced! So I firmly believe that I have now found my regular barber. But if I ever walk in there to find Johnny Depp winking at me, I shall turn right around and run for the hills.....
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