Silky Smooth

Sooo, I got myself a haircut, yes I did. Too much of one perhaps. I thought I would be efficient and work it in to my high school visit schedule. I even had a perfect lace picked out - a JoCo location of the male-focused chain I patronize here in Lee's Summit. I found the location on their website and they swore to God, Oz and all that is holy that it was right there. And then I get right there. And I find it no longer exists, if indeed it ever had. That, children, is why "perfect" in Kansas often ends up with someone being severely beaten with a "DO NOT BLOCK INTERSECTION" road sign.

Anyway, being in an entire county that consists of nothing more than churches, subdivisions, and most importantly, strip malls -- and knowing that cheap, low quality haircare places thrive in the latter -- I eventually found something. Not that one national chain you're thinking of, the other one. Yeah, that one.

So anyway, this place has one employee. She happens to be a woman. A 7 months pregnant woman. A 7 months pregnant woman with an attitude. When I entered, there was a man in the chair. So I sat down and waited. After a couple of minutes this man - James I come to find out - is finished, pays, and leaves. As I (and a 2nd man who has entered after me) wait, this woman staples a few things together and beats the stapler like she owed it money. The register apparently disagreed with her so she decided she'd just hit buttons OVER AND OVER AGAIN. Then she brutally stapled some more stuff together. Finally, she asked for my name, and then the other gentlemen's name (Kevin, I believe). We were too scared to resist.

Thinking that this is a textbook case of a person who doesn't want to be here, I thought I would break the ice by commiserating. "Seems like you're having a stressful day," I quipped as I sat down. The conversation is as follows, but you must imagine it that we aren't looking at each other, but instead at each other's reflections in the mirror straight ahead

Her: "What? You saying I have an attitude?"
Me: "Uhhh no, I just thought you might be having a rough day."
Her" "I'm having a great day. Why do you think that?" drops sharp clippers roughly, ominously
Me: "Uhhh no reason." praying to jesus
Her: "Some people think I have an attitude. You think I have an attitude?."
Me: "No, just, nevermind." fuck this would be a shitty way to die
Her: That previous guy thought I had an attitude. I dropped a comb. I didn't want to pick it up. So I kicked it over there so the person on the next shift can pick it up. He gave me a look when I did it too, like a bad look
Me: Nodding, trying to appear sympathetic.
Her: I'm seven months pregnant. You men can't understand. You have no idea how hard it is for me to bend over. You don't know how tough it is to carry this thing around. A man did this to me, but he can't understand how this is.
Me: I understand, I mean, no, I don't understand, but uhhh..." this woman is insane and I am not trained to deal with it
Her: Yeah, you know how it is.

Long story longer, we managed to get through the haircut without any bodily harm. I sure as fuck didn't critique the job that she was doing, as even my dumbass knows there are some times when you just don't poke the bear. There was an awkward conversation about how she loves cutting hair, and doesn't mind doing it for free for friends and family, but if she does it she wants to do it during work hours, and not at home, especially at somebody else's home. It was the awesome. Like I said, the cut is shorter than I'd like (but hey, it dries fast WOOOOO!) and my head now looks like a small watermelon and attracts all the babes. So there's that.

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