Reason #82 Why I'm Still Single

Picture courtesy of noveltyradio.com

Ok, normally this wouldn't even have made the pages of my blog, except I thought it might serve as a little wake up call to other guys how NOT to be one!

Getting a shave and a haircut used to be two of the most simplest yet inexpensive pleasures back in the olden days, when there where actually real men called "Barbers" who had real Barber Shops  on real street corners in real small, no-name one horse little towns...Life was good back then, and for somewhere around three dollars, you could not only get the best shave of your entire life, (yes, with hot, moist towels, real shaving cream, and a real straight razor too!), you could also get your hair washed and cut...Yes, I said '"washed"...(I don't ever remember my Mother once yelling out the back door, "Nicholas! Get in here, take a bath and 'shampoo' your hair before supper!)...Sorry, I just don't remember it...

Back when I was a kid a simple bar of Ivory soap cleaned just about every part you had except your hair, and for that you used "Prell" to "wash" it with...When this mystical man called The Barber was finished washing and cutting your hair, (I say cutting only because it's now referred to as 'styling' whatever the fuck that is, and now you have to go to a 'salon' to pick out the 'style' you want from a book of Men's Hairstyles so that the 'stylist' can make you look, "Just like that!" *Big toothy grin*), he would then comb some magical liquid through your hair which resembled blue-colored automobile antifreeze fluid and smelled vaguely of spice and cheap rubbing alcohol...

Well today I went to the salon, *rolls eyes* to get my hair cut, (ok ok 'styled' god dammit!) and to my surprise there was a new gal on the trimming assembly line...A very cute gal...You know the type, small boned, delicate features, short skirt, nice legs in actual pantyhose, (yes I know, it's rare these days to actually even "see" a woman's legs in public...I mean I'd heard rumors that women still had legs, but it was really nice to finally have that rumor confirmed for me), and the most beautiful shoulder length auburn hair I think I've ever seen in my entire life...

After the receptionist informed me that "Alicia", (aka auburn hair, short skirt, really cute gal with legs), was indeed the one slated to take care of me, I suddenly had the bright idea to have the "works" done...shave, shampoo, cut and styling...This would give me at least 30 minutes to try and find out whether or not Alicia was married, single, divorced, dating, a lesbian, whatever...and perhaps even score her phone number if she was available...

As I approached her, Alicia looked up, (green eyes, gasp!) smiled vaguely and said...

"Hi. I'm Alicia..." (snap, pop...snap. Why hadn't I noticed that she had gum in her mouth until just now?)

"Hi, I'm Nick." I replied with a wide, toothy grin as she motioned me into the chair and covered me with a big plastic, brightly colored pink sheet.

"Ok." (snap...pop..snap.) "What do you want today, Nick?"

Oh joy! This is the point when I decide to turn on the boyish, Iowa, corn-fed charm, as trying to look suave, cool and macho in a big plastic brightly colored pink sheet just wasn't going to be an option.

"What are you offering, Alicia?" (Slight smile, look shy. Arch an eyebrow.)

Pop...snap. Pop. Nothing...I had seen artificial plants that had exuded more personality than this woman. She motioned towards the back of the room with a nod of her head.

"Come back here and I'll shampoo your hair first."

So I get up and follow her legs, err, ass, uh dammit...her, to a row of sinks in the rear of the shop to settle myself into an empty chair...Then Alicia stuffs a towel into the back of the big plastic brightly colored pink sheet and tightens it with enough force to sever my wind pipe completely in half and stop respiration entirely. She then hits some previously unknown lever with her left foot that I can't really see, and I go flying backwards, my arms and legs shooting straight out as if I had just been hit with 50 million volts of electricity in a chair that had suddenly become an instrument of torture and death.

Pop. Snap. Pop... I look up at her with hopeful eyes as I hear the rush of water, and she starts running long, thin fingers gently along my scalp through my hair.

"You have great hair, Nick."

"Why thank you, Alicia," I smiled, "so do you!"

"Yeah." Snap...pop. Snap. "I know."

She takes the shower hair-washer thingy and starts to wet down my hair, still running her long, thin fingers along my scalp. Now any human being who has ever had their scalp massaged and their hair washed for them can attest to the fact that the experience is almost erotic, but also very very soothing at the same time. I don't mean like give me a blanket I want to go to sleep in a corner while you do this soothing, but it just instantly relaxes you.You exhale slowly and have to close your eyes. You just have to. It's one of the rules.

I was drifting peacefully in the chair, when I suddenly realized the temperature of the water was only slightly hotter then, oh say, the surface of the fucking sun! My eyes flew open and met hers with a rather startled look on my face.

"Uh Alicia..?"

"Yes Nick?" Pop. Snap. Pop.

"I don't mean to be rude, " I said carefully, "but that water seems to be vulcanizing my scalp!"

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry." Snap. Pop. Snap....

She adjusted the blazing fire water down to a somewhat more tolerable temperature, washed my hair twice, conditioned it, then merrily set about trying to rattle my brains around inside my cranium while attempting to dry my hair with a towel, after which she hit the lever again and up I popped like some giant pink, plastic-shrouded jack-in-the-box (again with the flying arms and legs thing), and followed her dutifully back to her station. As she began running a comb through my hair, apparently studying it's texture, I tried to come up with something witty and sharp to start a conversation with. I mean, time was running out, I'd already missed the opportunity at the sink, I had to act fast or the whole thing would just end in dismal failure.

I looked at her in the mirror and said,

"So Alicia, what do you do for a living..?" Ok lame, but I was desperate at this point.

She looked back at me with her stunning green eyes, blinked once and replied,

"I cut hair."

"Oh right." I said. "Of course you do!" *Big toothy grin*

Pop. Snap...pop. There was no pitch or tone in her voice whatsoever when she asked,

"What do you do for a living, Nick?"

Comb, fluff, examine. Pop.

"I'm a veterinarian actually." This should have been sufficient enough to spark some kind of reaction. I mean everybody loves animals right? So I expected a smile, an interested look...something. But...nooooo. Nothing. Just, snap. Pop. Snap.

She picked up a pair of scissors from the counter and started combing, separating and fluffing my hair. With a completely blank expression on her face she asked,

"So you don't eat meat, right?"

Huh? What? Uh...Wait.

"No, I eat meat." I replied, almost as confused now as she was. And this was what was going to constitute the bulk of our conversation? Jesus wept.

"I thought you just said you were a vegetarian, Nick. Vegetarians don't eat meat right?"

I tried to work up some semblance of an understanding looking expression and replied,

"No, Alicia. I said I was a 'veterinarian'. Not a 'vegetarian'. Vegetarians don't eat meat. Although some veterinarians probably are vegetarians," I said with a burst of sudden witty sarcasm, "I'm not a vegetarian. I eat meat. So technically that would make me a non-vegetarian veterinarian!" *Big toothy grin*

Pop. Snap. Pop. Blank stare. Comb, separate, fluff. Blank stare.

"Oh." she said." How do you want it styled?"

I suddenly realized, that by being a typically shallow, sex-only, testosterone driven male earlier, chauvinistically attracted only by good her looks and great legs, was now going to present a major stumbling block for any sort of rational intelligent communication between us.

"Just take an inch or two off the top please, trim it up over my ears and around the back. Thank you."

Pop...snap...pop.

"Ok. So you just want it cut."

"Uh, yeah. Just cut it."

"But not styled." Snap. Pop. Snap.

"What's the difference...?"

She stared at my reflection in the mirror as if I were some kind of green, eight-eyed, two-headed alien creature who had suddenly just beamed down into her chair from the Mothership. I heard her sigh. You know the sound, like someone who thinks you should know what they're talking about when really you don't, but they think you're a jackass for not knowing something they think you actually should know? Yeah, that kind of a sigh.

Pause. Snap...pop...snap...Pause. She pulled a book of men's hairstyles out of a drawer at her station and handed it to me. I know it sounds stupid, but this was the first time in my adult life when anyone had ever not just 'cut' my hair without forcing me to choose a 'style' from a book of male models I didn't want to resemble in the least. I closed the book and handed it back to her. Then it was my turn to sigh. I was crestfallen. This is what I got for being attracted to a woman's body first without stopping to see if she actually had enough grey matter to carry on a decent conversation. I was a male, chauvinist pig.

"Can't you just cut it, Alicia?"

Pause. Pop. Snap. Pop. Blink.

Her one word response was so brilliant that it nearly took my breath away.

"Cut."

"Yeah," I said evenly, "cut it."

Snap...pop...snap. Blink. Blank stare. Pause. Fluff. Sigh. Blank stare. Blink.

"Just cut." Pop...snap. "No style."

"Just a simple cut will do nicely, Alicia.Thank you."

"Ok..."

Snap. Pop. Snap.

Reason number eighty-two, why I'm still single...