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2000-11-15 - 21:50:23

Trip to the barber

I got my haircut today.

It's been that kind of day.

Why do we always compliment one another on new haircuts?

"Nice haircut."

"Thank you." What else could we say? It seems pointless, if you ask me. It's not like I did it myself. I get the same basic trim each time, it's not like I make any drastic changes. I can lay no claim to the look of my head after returning from the barber.

So what do I say to "Nice haircut"?

"Thanks, but don't tell me. Here's my barber's number. Why don't you give him a call and let him know."

Of course, it's not like I actually carry my barber's number around with me.

Or I could say, "I'll let him know the next time I see him."

While in the chair today, though, my barber, whom I've been entrusting with the monthly groom for the last decade, told me that his son is getting married next Saturday, two days after Thankgiving. I congratulated him and then went quiet.

I realized his son is younger than me. Only a year or two; I think he graduated the same high school the year after I did, but he's younger. That's the point.

He's getting married, and here I am in the barber's chair at 9:30 on a Wednesday morning, working nights as a copy editor, with marriage too far in the future to fathom.

I should've been happier for my barber, who, I feel like I should point out, is missing half of his right pinky finger. I find that amusing -- a barber missing half a finger. Or is it his left? I'm always looking at him in the mirror.

Anywho, at least I don't have to be on my feet all day.

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