On Someone else's Hairdresser - A Review

I need a haircut.

It’s tough when you move. It’s even tougher when your hair starts to do that little flippy thing, you know, when your bangs start to curl at the edges upward for whatever reason.

I don’t know where to get my haircut. I’m most likely going to default to a Great Clips, or something similar, but I really don’t know where any are. New York is littered with barber shops, but all of the options they give are based on numbers and an electric razor, and I don’t think I’m that desperate.

Eventually my hair will surpass the speed necessary to reach minimum exit velocity, and it’ll somehow go back to looking fine, despite being longer than I prefer, but I’d rather not play chicken with my scalp and just go get a haircut.

Part of me doesn’t want to bite the bullet and cut my hair, because well. I have quite a storied hairdresser back in Murrieta. I feel like I’m betraying them by going somewhere else. And I know, I might not seem like the type of person who had a “go-to” hairdresser, but if this blog hasn’t made it clear yet, I’m full of surprises.

It’s a little silly to be wrapped up in something so banal. But, when you can only control so many aspects of your life, its quite easy to get tunnel vision.

Ironically, that thought took my brain out of the tunnel and into the crystal blue daylight.

Do you ever have that moment? You know, the one where you realize the hundreds of strangers you see driving past you, that walk past you, that work near you, all have lives? That like. Completely overwhelming moment when you remember that each body around you carries its own consciousness capable of rational thought and storing memories. Memories that have defined and continue to define all the little things that make that person a human?

Well. Have you ever realized that all those bodies, with their own minds, and their own memories, and their own personalities, also might have their own hairdresser? Most likely, every person you see on the street has had a haircut, and there’s a solid chance some of them have a hairdresser that they prefer to see.

So, there I was, on the train casually thinking about how the thirty-something people sitting throughout these rows are conscious beings with agency and their own directives. And all of those lovely and beautiful people have their own hairdressers. And those hairdressers have their own lives, memories, personalities, and maybe even hairdressers of their own. And there I was, hair slightly too long, wondering where I’d eventually get it cut.

I’ll figure it out, one day.

Thanks for reading! I hope you had a particularly fine Wednesday. If yours was a bit tough, like mine (hence this 8pm blog), then I’m sorry.

But tomorrow is Thursday, and Thursdays? Well they’re the best. So let’s hit this one hard, and see it through to Friday.

Take care, and have a good rest of your week.