I got a haircut

Mary Oliver's instructions for living a life are simple:

Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.

So, for my first haircut in almost six years: I paid attention (or tried), I was astonished, and I’m going to tell you about it... Because it was way better than expected!

I suppose I stopped paying someone else to cut my hair in 2012 or 2013. I was trying to save money, and since I was balding anyway, buzzing it myself just made sense.

There were several reasons, then, why I stopped cutting my hair entirely in early 2020. I believe I told Jane I wasn't going to cut it again until DJT was no longer president. Yet, there was more... which I may get around to telling someday.

Anyway, my hair had basically quit growing. It broke off or fell out as fast as it was coming in, and probably looked somewhat hideous. So, for the past few months I'd been bracing myself to get it cut/trimmed. I hoped that by trimming the ends it would stimulate more growth, or something like that. Jane suggested I go where she goes, because she likes the woman who cuts hers.

I felt a little funny making an appointment at a place called Pin-Up Curls. But, hey, who am I trying to impress. So, I filled out their online intake form - which took as long as the hair appointment did - and they assigned me to Kelsey, who also cuts Jane's hair.

Let me just say, when the day finally arrived, I was nervous as a cat. I got up early, I was scrambling around the house, watching the minutes tick by until it was time to go. I left too early and had to drive around the block. But... finally I arrived (still five minutes early).

The salon/spa/boutique looks just like you would expect a place with a name like that to look. Yet, I was greeted by three friendly smiles at the front counter. I didn't have to wait long for Kelsey to come get me. Of course she was super nice and cute, but also seemed pretty down to earth, which I liked.

We walked past a half dozen women (all women, except me) and got to her chair. At first we sat and talked... about my hair. I didn't really know what to say because... you know... it's just my 'old man' hair. I shampoo once or twice a week, comb it sometimes, and... what else is there to say? Still, she was funny and patient and... she wrote with her left hand. Okay, we had something in common!

She said a lot of stuff, most of which is now a blur, because I was nervous and tried to just smile and nod at the appropriate times. Finally she led me from the chair around the corner and said she was going to wash my hair. Cool! I don't think anyone has washed my hair for me since my mom did when I was like five years old.

Wow... I mean... wow. Yes, she washed my hair... But she massaged my head, and neck, and... then put a warm towel over my face and weighted things on my eyes, and... whew... 

As the conditioner was setting... she massaged my hands and arms... ... ... I was in love.

Holy cow, after she rinsed my hair she brought me back out to her chair and asked me how I felt. I didn't want to ask if she had a cigarette (because I don't smoke) but... yeah, I felt like I'd just had sex. Geez... I was almost numb. Jane says she told me all that was going to happen, but I'd either forgotten or didn't listen in the first place. Whichever, I was not expecting that... I hadn't felt that good in...

The rest is kind of a blur now. She cut 1 1/2 inches off my hair, put stuff on it, did stuff to it, then we were done. As we're walking back to the front she asked if I wanted to buy any of the product she used. I said 'sure.' She could have sold me snow in a snowstorm at that point.

I tipped $15 on a $20 haircut and bought every product she touched. I don’t even know what they were for. I just nodded like a man hypnotized by conditioner. It cost me like $120 altogether... (part of the tip was because I got $20 off as a new customer).

It wasn't until I walked out the door that I was startled back to reality. What the hell just happened, I asked myself. As I got to my car it dawned on me how much of an idiot I just was. I looked in the rearview mirror to make sure someone hadn't written "sucker" on my forehead. I suppose it wasn't necessary.

So that’s my story of the world’s most expensive haircut (at least for me).
But honestly, I’m glad I went. Kelsey was great (I learned, in addition to being left handed, she works out early, runs, has an older brother, and her dad has a cat named Cat. If I ever get another haircut, I hope it's from her). For a few minutes, I was completely present — paying attention, being astonished, and now, finally, telling about it.

Maybe that's all any of us can do.