I must confess to not knowing much about haircuts. For years my request to the barber was always “shave it all off.” The bold pate style, if one can call it a style, never really bothered me; for it was easy to manage and very comfortable, like a load had been lifted off my head, which was literally the case. Nevertheless, I don’t think my relations ever got used to my appearance after a visit to the barbershop; evident from their quick glances and polite observations. However, a few days ago the faculty at the university asked me if I might be a model for them in photos to be put up on their new website. It wasn’t going to be a fancy photoshoot or anything like that of course; presumably just pictures of me staring significantly at pretend-work, that sort of thing you know. Nevertheless, my ego was inflated and I was vaingloriously flattered. But this feeling of jubilation did not last long, for it dawned on me that if I did not look good, then the pictures would not come out well, photoshopped or not. So I decided to do something radical that would alter my appearance quickly. Obviously plastic surgery was not a viable option, so I opted for the next best thing to cosmetic correction. A haircut.
With that in mind, I entered the barbershop nervously. The barber invited me to a stool, and followed up by asking how I would like my hair done. In response, I think I said something like “short and long.” Indeed, not the most informative answer. The barber must have thought so too, because he was visibly puzzled. But being a pro, he attempted to reinterpret my request by venturing an educated guest. As I did not speak hair, I thus had no idea what he was suggesting. But not wanting to be impolite or take up any more of his time, I just nodded my head in agreement; as one does when verbally approached by a foreigner with questions. All that said and done, I must admit to myself that the result came out decidedly ok.