Okay, let’s talk about this haircut disaster. It’s still kind of raw, honestly.
So, I needed a trim. Nothing fancy. Just clean things up a bit. My usual place was booked solid, which should’ve been the first sign, right? But no, I figured, how bad could another place mess up a simple trim? Famous last words.
Walked into this new salon. Looked alright, maybe a bit too trendy for my taste, but whatever. Sat down. The stylist seemed nice enough, asked what I wanted. I explained it clearly. Super clearly. Showed a picture even. Just take a little off the sides, tidy the top, keep the length mostly. Easy peasy.
They nodded, smiled. Said “Got it.” Then the clippers came out. And oh boy. It started okay, I guess. Then I felt… a lot more hair coming off than expected. Like, way more. I tried to peek in the mirror, but you know how it is, they keep moving your head around.
Heard the scissors snipping away up top. Sounded aggressive. Felt aggressive. My gut started doing flip-flops. Tried asking, “Uh, are you sure that’s not too short?” Got the classic “Trust me, it’ll look great!” response. Yeah, okay.
Then came the big reveal. They spun the chair around. I looked. And I just… stared. It wasn’t a trim. It was a hack job. One side was visibly shorter than the other. The top looked like a lawnmower went over it drunk. There was this weird patch near the back that was almost down to the scalp.
What even happened?
I didn’t know what to say. Just sat there, stunned. Paid the bill – why did I pay the bill? – and walked out feeling like an idiot. Felt every single person on the street was staring. Probably wasn’t true, but it sure felt like it.
Got home. Looked in my own mirror. If anything, it looked worse under normal light. My wife took one look and just burst out laughing. Then she felt bad, but honestly, laughter was probably the right response. It was that ridiculous.
Dealing with it was rough:
- Tried wetting it and styling it differently. Nope.
- Considered wearing hats constantly. Did that for a few days.
- Looked into just buzzing it all off. Almost did it.
- Spent way too much time trying to comb it into something resembling normal.
Had a couple of video calls for work that week. Kept my camera off for one, blamed “internet issues”. The other one, I just had to brave it. Got a few raised eyebrows. Someone actually asked if I’d lost a fight with a weed whacker. Fun times.
It took weeks, literal weeks, for it to grow out enough to look vaguely presentable. Had to go to my actual regular stylist eventually, hat in hand, basically begging her to fix the mess. She did her best, but even she said it was one of the weirdest cuts she’d ever had to correct.
So yeah. Lesson learned? Stick with what you know. Don’t trust a random salon just because it’s convenient. And maybe, just maybe, if you feel those clippers going rogue, actually speak up louder than a timid squeak. Never making that mistake again. It’s just hair, sure, but man, it was a rough month.
