It’s a big pain living in a country like the US where you absolutely need a car, atleast in the first few days before you get a license. (The pain I mean, not the car. ‘coz it’d make no sense otherwise) It is agony if you are as lazy as I am. I mean, going out and grabbing something you like for a quick bite itself is such a problem! Adding on to this is the fact that the temperature in this horrid hellhole is subzero even during the daytimes and when it rains here it’s as bad as a urinary infection. As constantly wet and as irritatingly painful! Anyway, the weather put me off so much that I had deferred getting a hair cut just about indefinitely. One of the major reasons I’m thankful for being a guy is the fact that I do not have to spend too much time and effort on my appearance. I could get away with looking a little unkempt (the fact that it sort of props up my self-esteem doesn’t hurt). Hell, it even added to this act of a nerd that I think I play really well. But then after a month and a half without a haircut, notwithstanding the clumps of hair that I leave on the bathtub everyday and my terrible attempts at reducing the irritation with a pair of scissors, it just becomes too much. After putting off the inescapable for about a couple of weeks more, I got up on Saturday completely fed up with all the hair falling over my ears and decided to get rid of it. I‘d just got out of bed. It looked like a wonderful day. But I refused to take any risks and look at the temperature that is normally displayed on the desktop of my Laptop, (God, I’ve always wanted to say that. Anyway…) and Google mapped the hair dressers around my place. There was a “Supercuts” a mile away. I decided to go there. I dragged on a pair of Jeans and didn’t bother to change my Tshirt. It was half past eleven. I got in to my mud caked Nike and walked out.
I hate it how you don’t have pavements on most of these roads. If you can have grass embankments on the side of the road, why not have a walkway there, huh? Most of the grass is totally dried up anyway. I walked the one mile ignoring a couple of very prominent “don’t walk on the grass” signs and reached the place a Breathless and Sweaty. I opened the door and… well, where I come from we have middle aged, balding men with a shiny pate and an oily smile, so it was shocking to see two young beautiful women plying their scissors. A person’s hair is one of the most private things about him. Especially for a guy who doesn’t spend too much time with boring overhyped concepts like Hygiene. Hell, my idea of maintenance is shampoo everyday and damn the consequences. Show me one guy who isn’t sensitive about his bald patch and I will show you the Buddha. That aside, considering that I can count the number of women I have shaken hands with, in one hand and the fact that I’m a socially and sexually repressed 28 year old South Indian Virgin, even the thought of having a pretty young girl come anywhere near my early morning hair is Mortifying
Anyway, I was sweaty, looked like a tramp and my shirt should have been washed a month ago and looked it. Cursing myself and my perennially bad luck, I huddled myself in one of the corners with my jacket on and oblivious of the heat. Desperate for something to distract myself, I grabbed at the magazine nearest to me, which turned out to be a Cosmo. I replaced that as soon as I realized what I was holding and glanced around sheepishly. The guy next to me glared at me openly and dragged his kid from under my foot. One of the ladies came to the front desk and called out to me. She had one look at my hair and she said” this must be your first time here, sir. Please give me your phone number and first name”. I mumbled my phone number and spelt out my name. She left the “R”. So, I corrected her, slowly. “You will have to wait fifteen minutes. Is that okay?” she asked me. Did I detect a note of Hope in that? I’d come this far, I was not about to do this again tomorrow.”Yes”, I said, teeth clenched. Was that disappointment on her face? I got back to my corner and sat down and went back to my staring at nowhere, when this absolutely fabulous creature walks in. Black hair, with wide, full, red lips and honey colored skin. My god she was beautiful. She dumped her bag on one of the seats and removed her coat. Oh my god…. She was the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen and she is going to see me in this condition. I fervently prayed to all the gods that I shouldn’t be subjected to the humiliation of having to have my hair cut by her. The other lady, who spoke to me before seemed content to endlessly, cut the hair of a four year old. Damn it she was going to drag it long enough so that I had to go the new girl. Sure enough, the new girl walks up to the waiting area and calls for the next person. I jump up, cursing my involuntary reaction and the malicious Gods. I awkwardly get out of my Jacket almost knocking out the guy next to me. Next thing I knew, I was sitting on the chair and the lady was murmuring something urgently to me. I realized that I still had my glasses on. I pulled out my most embarrassed grin and tucked the specs in my shirt pocket. “How do you want your hair?” she asked.” As short as you can make it”, I stammered in reply. Silence. After a few minutes she held up a clump of hair and asked,” is this short enough”. Too embarrassed to wear my glasses and confirm, I simply grunted yes and went back to trying to avoid looking at her (In vain…She was hot)I somehow got through the rest of the hair cut and returned back home, without making too much of a fool of myself. I trudged back home after a round if shopping at Giants where I had this weird feeling that everybody was looking at me strangely. I got back home and my roommate had a welcoming grin on his face. “Super Cuts, huh?” he asked. “Yeah”. I got my towel from the bedroom and walked in to the bathroom. I Switched on the lights and looked at myself in the mirror and “oh My God….”
I hate it how you don’t have pavements on most of these roads. If you can have grass embankments on the side of the road, why not have a walkway there, huh? Most of the grass is totally dried up anyway. I walked the one mile ignoring a couple of very prominent “don’t walk on the grass” signs and reached the place a Breathless and Sweaty. I opened the door and… well, where I come from we have middle aged, balding men with a shiny pate and an oily smile, so it was shocking to see two young beautiful women plying their scissors. A person’s hair is one of the most private things about him. Especially for a guy who doesn’t spend too much time with boring overhyped concepts like Hygiene. Hell, my idea of maintenance is shampoo everyday and damn the consequences. Show me one guy who isn’t sensitive about his bald patch and I will show you the Buddha. That aside, considering that I can count the number of women I have shaken hands with, in one hand and the fact that I’m a socially and sexually repressed 28 year old South Indian Virgin, even the thought of having a pretty young girl come anywhere near my early morning hair is Mortifying
Anyway, I was sweaty, looked like a tramp and my shirt should have been washed a month ago and looked it. Cursing myself and my perennially bad luck, I huddled myself in one of the corners with my jacket on and oblivious of the heat. Desperate for something to distract myself, I grabbed at the magazine nearest to me, which turned out to be a Cosmo. I replaced that as soon as I realized what I was holding and glanced around sheepishly. The guy next to me glared at me openly and dragged his kid from under my foot. One of the ladies came to the front desk and called out to me. She had one look at my hair and she said” this must be your first time here, sir. Please give me your phone number and first name”. I mumbled my phone number and spelt out my name. She left the “R”. So, I corrected her, slowly. “You will have to wait fifteen minutes. Is that okay?” she asked me. Did I detect a note of Hope in that? I’d come this far, I was not about to do this again tomorrow.”Yes”, I said, teeth clenched. Was that disappointment on her face? I got back to my corner and sat down and went back to my staring at nowhere, when this absolutely fabulous creature walks in. Black hair, with wide, full, red lips and honey colored skin. My god she was beautiful. She dumped her bag on one of the seats and removed her coat. Oh my god…. She was the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen and she is going to see me in this condition. I fervently prayed to all the gods that I shouldn’t be subjected to the humiliation of having to have my hair cut by her. The other lady, who spoke to me before seemed content to endlessly, cut the hair of a four year old. Damn it she was going to drag it long enough so that I had to go the new girl. Sure enough, the new girl walks up to the waiting area and calls for the next person. I jump up, cursing my involuntary reaction and the malicious Gods. I awkwardly get out of my Jacket almost knocking out the guy next to me. Next thing I knew, I was sitting on the chair and the lady was murmuring something urgently to me. I realized that I still had my glasses on. I pulled out my most embarrassed grin and tucked the specs in my shirt pocket. “How do you want your hair?” she asked.” As short as you can make it”, I stammered in reply. Silence. After a few minutes she held up a clump of hair and asked,” is this short enough”. Too embarrassed to wear my glasses and confirm, I simply grunted yes and went back to trying to avoid looking at her (In vain…She was hot)I somehow got through the rest of the hair cut and returned back home, without making too much of a fool of myself. I trudged back home after a round if shopping at Giants where I had this weird feeling that everybody was looking at me strangely. I got back home and my roommate had a welcoming grin on his face. “Super Cuts, huh?” he asked. “Yeah”. I got my towel from the bedroom and walked in to the bathroom. I Switched on the lights and looked at myself in the mirror and “oh My God….”
1 comment:
Thats the longest explanation to a bad descision
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