Sunday, July 17, 2005

Freakin' Awesome Haircut

It was that time of the month again. The once stylized "do" that rested atop my head had turned into a big bundle of brillo once again. I can always tell when I need a haircut because every now and then I'll swipe at my ear thinking a bug's flying next to it, but it's actually the hairs just above my ear reaching over and tickling my ear. And when I look in the mirror, there is no longer a distinction between ear and hair...they have become one.

When I had a shaved head, haircuts were a breeze. Every 3 weeks I'd feel the tickle, take out the clippers, jump in the bathroom, clean it up, shower, and I was done. Now with hair, cutting it myself just wasn't, well, cutting it. After getting free haircuts I wasn't gonna pay much for a haircut. That's when I heard about the Whorehouse- a somewhat dingy upstairs spot in Flushing with about fifteen Asian 40+ year old women all wearing red lipstick and makeup, charging $6 for a simple fade. After a few trial months and many crooked haircuts, I decided to ditch the Whorehouse. Then there was Top Point. Also in Flushing, this place charged $8 for a haircut. I quickly had a favorite "stylist" and her name was Amanda or Samantha...something like that. She was cute and nice, but everytime I asked her to cut it a certain way, my haircuts always looked the same in the end.

Like I said, it was that time of the month again. Unsatisfied with the Whorehouse and Top Point, I decided that it was time that I treated myself to a "real" haircut. I raised my budget to $15 and if I was in a good moode, $20. Amy mentioned another place in Flushing called IN, a "salon" that she's been wanting to tryout for some time. We get there and on the door is a list of prices. The list read something like this...

HAIRCUT $28

HAIRCUT + COLOR $2,600

STRAIGHT PERM $49,000

I saw those prices and thought to myself, "OK those are the prices for girls' haircuts, where are the prices for guys?", assuming that most places charge less for a guys' haircut. I looked up and down that glass door and found nothing. So Amy and I went inside to ask for the price instead. Greeted by a friendly young girl at the front desk, she quickly turned unfriendly to me when she told us that girls' and guys' haircuts BOTH COST $28!! I was shocked. Amy wasn't too shocked because girls' haircuts usually run around that much and she was pretty set on getting it cut there. Not wanting to look cheap in the eyes of that damn front desk girl, I was going through an internal struggle, trying to justify the spending of $28 on a haircut. From FREE to $28?! I couldn't really justify it, but I conceded thinking that if it cost that much, maybe he can do something with my hair that I didn't think was possible - make it freakin' awesome.

Amy and I had just sat down in the waiting area when the front desk girl came up to me, gesturing me to put on this nylon bathroom-looking thing which I did. She then motioned me over to the back corner of the store where a lady was waiting for me. She was the hair washer. After a wash with a full head massage, it was my turn on the hot seat. The first thing I noticed when I sat down was a scissor holster hanging on the side. Yes, a Vidal Sassoon SCISSOR HOLSTER. Not a gun holster, a SCISSOR HOLSTER. I knew this guy meant business. Another thing I noticed was that there was no set of clippers in sight. How was this man going to trim my sides without a clipper? My questions were answered the minute he started cutting my hair. He was smooth, quick, almost agile with his sleak, silver, Sassoon scissors. His scissors were being used in ways I've never seen...they were pointing up, then down, then across, at acute angles, then obtuse, with slow cuts one moment, then quick snippets the next. After he thinned the top, he made his way to the sides and back. But he didn't stop to pick up a pair of buzzing clippers...oh no. His weapon of choice was the scissor. With the help of a comb, he began to trim the sides and back giving me a mild fade (as I had requested).

As he whizzed around my head and back, he wasn't really cutting much. Large clumps of hair weren't falling to the floor like at the other places. Instead, two or three hairs at a time came trickling down, one of which landed on my nose. Tickling my nose to no end, I didn't know what to do. Should I lift my arm from under the sheet of nylon and scatch my nose, risking too much movement which could potentially leave me with a chunk of missing hair? Oh the choices. But I couldn't take it, so I did it. From my years of popping and locking, I was able to isolate the movements of my arm without moving my head. I was so smooth I was almost robotic...and my stylist didn't miss a beat. Instead, he actually joined me on beat as Planet Rock played on the stereo system and we started to breakdance fight. But yeah, that's another story all together...

After my second trip to the hair washer to have my hair rinsed, the guy was putting the finish touches on my haircut. With the same pair of scissors, he began to slightly trip the edges of my hair. It was so quick and light, that it felt like a mouse was nibbling at my hair. It gave me the chills.

All said and done (including tipping everybody and their mother in the store), my hair didn't look that different from what it was before. Yes it was a little shorter and thinner, and yes it was definitely better than my haircuts in the past. For $35 was my hair freakin' awesome? Hm, not quite. It's a really good haircut, but not quite freakin' awesome. With $35 down the drain, my quest for the freakin' awesome haircut continues.

posted by pierre 12:22 PM