A few weeks ago I cut out a coupon for SuperCuts. Yesterday I decided to take the business up on their offer of $2 off. I walked into the small salon in the Albertson’s shopping center on Verdugo and Hollywood Way in Burbank. I remember I’d visited this location long ago when I still lived with Aaron on Cahuenga Boulevard.

I walked in and a tall thin man with Jet black hair asked me if I came for a cut. Let me give you a visual. The guy looked like a 6’3” 120 pound Wayne Newton (with the same hair). Immediately I noticed something was off. He was emitting an unusual amount of grunts and ticks. He was so jumpy he managed to launch a pen at my stomach when he tried to pick it up to write my name on the customer list across the counter.

Then I discovered that he’d be the one cutting my hair. What would you do? I felt sorry for the guy, after all it probably isn’t his fault that he’s got the nervous ticks – but what profession would you choose if you had constant jitters? Probably not one where you brandish sharp objects at people’s heads.

I quietly crossed my fingers underneath the protective purple hair gown.

It turned out that it was probably the gentlest haircut I’ve ever gotten. The guy was so worried about it that he was very cautious. I swear half the time he’d slice the scissors and not actually cut anything. The haircut didn’t turn out how I wanted. It ended up being the kind of haircut that will put you back in the seat in under three weeks. However, I just wanted to get out of there as I was going to be late to my next destination (racquetball court #3) if I had this guy do another fifteen minutes to remove another eighth of an inch.