Who knew haircuts could be so scary?
I’ve always enjoyed the barbershop atmosphere and of course the haircut. It’s just relaxing to me to be in a room full of mirrors, sit in the black comfortable chair, while someone turns my wild haystack of hair into a presentable fade.
Friday was the exception. I finally got my haircut, but it almost went horribly awry.
It started off as a fantastic day because when I woke up it was raining like crazy. Rained on my way to work, rained pretty much all day, rained on my way to a meeting in San Diego, and then rained on my way back up.
Since my San Diego meeting was at 1:30pm, I told my boss I’d see him Monday morning, and then off I went making my weekend plans.
The most important item on my agenda was a haircut.
I’ve desperately needed a haircut since November of last year. Yep, that’s right. At my old age of 23, I had decided to be immature and bet my friend that I could go longer than him without a haircut (read more here).
Turns out I was wrong. Unknown to me, my friend had been looking for an excuse to grow his hair out, and I provided him with the best imaginable scenario.
My hair grew to historical and nefarious lengths fraying my sanity. My pride was the only thing keeping me in the bet. So I put on my normally expressionless face and endured the long hair for over 3-months.
But it became too much to bear this past week. The point came where self-respect overrode my pride.
After my San Diego meeting, I headed to the barbershop and arrived around 4pm for my appointment. As I walked down the long line of chairs towards my barber, someone shouted out “Don’t do it Elijah”.
Looking back I saw one of my friends who was also getting his haircut. He knew about the bet and was hoping to see it continue.
But I was in the barbershop and there was no way I was leaving without my haircut.
Seeing my long hair, my barber decided to have some fun while cutting it. First, he took down the sides to zero fade and then cut the hair on one side to length while leaving the other side untouched.
It was great. I was finally getting my haircut. I had fun Friday plans, and it was still raining outside.
Then the lights flickered.
And…the power went out.
I lie not.
Have you ever felt pure terror? If you have, then you know exactly how I felt.
The power had no intention of returning and Edison had no clue as to what was causing the blackout.
All I knew was that I was not leaving. The entire barbershop thought my situation was rather funny, and I’ll admit I even saw a molecule humor in it. But I was also worried.
Here I was, halfway through my haircut with my hair ghoulishly hacked, and the power is out.
Story of my life.
It was terrifying.
I wished I had listened to my friend.
I hated Edison.
I unsuccessfully willed my barber to have battery-operated clippers.
Then I began figuring out how I was going to survive the next few hours. There were no more Friday plans to go out. Without knowing when the power would return, I didn’t know if I’d even have my haircut finished by Saturday morning. The “fun” forecast for my weekend had become extremely dismal.
So I did the only thing I could do.
I sat quietly in that comfortable black chair and posted my dilemma to Facebook and Instagram where my friends and followers delightfully liked and commented on my luck.
I continued to wait. And wait. And wait.
And finally 2-hours later, my patience was rewarded as the power returned.
I laughed. Laughing was the only way I knew how to express all the terror and fright I had experienced and internalized for the past couple of hours.
I’ve never been happier to leave a barbershop. From now on the weather forecast will be religiously consulted before making an appointment with my barber. I learn my lessons.
If nothing else, I know I brought a speck of happiness to my friends through my situation.
And I’m okay with that (but only because my haircut turned out).