The Losing Battle

That’s it, I’ve had enough! Hair! You and I are OVER! My long lasting I-Will-NOT-Go-To-A-Professional-Hairdresser Days are done. I can’t take it anymore.

I’m a cheap bastard. I.can.admit.it. I do not like paying the $15 (Canadian nonetheless) for a haircut. It’s not even a haircut; it’s more like a trim of a few inches. Allow me to backtrack a bit.

When I was 13 years old I didn’t see the point in going to the hairdresser to get my bangs trimmed. So I trimmed it myself in the school restroom during math class.

Heh.

After that mistake, yeah, I admit, I went to a professional for the rest of my haircuts. But then… at age 21… I refused to go to get my hair trimmed at a hairdresser so I did it myself (at home this time). I made the executive decision that I wasn’t willing to pay the dollar price and besides, my hair and I got into a massive argument where very harsh words were exchanged.

Me: “You fucking lousy piece of shit! Ima cut you. Ima cut you gooood!”

Hair: “Hah! Go ahead, do it! I dare you! I ain’t afraid!”

I divided my loooooong hair into four sections, grabbed regular paper-cutting scissors and hacked away. Seriously, I hacked. It wasn’t your “take little snippets here and there to make sure it was even”, it was more of a “COMMON SCISSORS, YOU CAN DO IT!” (Side Note: I can still hear the sound of the scissors, crunching through my hair in a struggle) Once all was said and done, I took a couple of mirrors to examine my new do.

Gag. Cough. Screech.

So.un.even.

To fix my issue, I continued to hack away at the parts that were ever so slightly longer than the rest… then those sections were too short so I’d then hack the other longer sections… then those sections became too short… This went on for about another 15 minutes.

Um. Now that I think about it, maybe it is a good idea that I go to a professional instead.