Don’t Make Me Cut You

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Hey, it’s been a while. My sweetheart finally arrived here, and we just put a contract on a house. She was able to transfer and keep her job, and I’m working a new one for the last year. Looks like our lives may finally begin to look “normal” once again.

So the other day I looked in the mirror, and decided that my hair was too long. Not Rock-Star/ Hippie long, just generally unkempt and shaggy. I needed a trim. But money is tight, and I’m trying to hold onto a big fat down payment for our dream home.

It was at that point I made the fatal decision to cut my own hair and save $30.

I set about the job, using a number 4 guide on the back and sides, then using my fingers as a guide on top. It turned out great, took me all of 10 minutes, and saved me $30. I cleaned up with a spring in my step, as I was looking forward to a nice meal and a movie over at Sweety Pies.

I knocked on the door, she opened, smiled and said, “Oh, u got your ears lowered…” I slowly replied ” yes…” She says, “Baby, why didn’t they trim your eye brows? You need to make sure to tell them to trim those brows…”

Uh oh. I hadn’t even thought about this wrinkle, having lived the last 5 years as a bachelor. I’ve been accustomed to wearing clothes that didn’t quite match, self-barbering when circumstances warranted, and occasionally hanging my shorts on the doorknob.  So you can see how it might not occur to me that this wasn’t an acceptable practice. Only two choices presented themselves at this moment. I could feign a seizure, hit the ground foaming at the mouth, in hopes of distracting her. But she’s a pitbull when she’s onto something. Or I could tell the truth, receive grace and see the pride in her eyes as she realized how resourceful I was. For I saved $30, remember??

Here’s what really happened. I hesitated, looked down and mumbled something like ” Well, I did it. Didn’t I do a good job? ” As I looked up through my bushy eyebrows like George Clooney.

“Oh, no… we don’t do that, baby…” For roughly 10 minutes the look on her face hovered somewhere between nausea and horror. I saw that Johnny Depp, Edward Scissorhands look in her eye. I know what she said, but what I heard was ” don’t make me cut you “…

At several points during the evening she stopped the movie, looked in my eyes, and said “We aren’t going to do that, OK? I’ll go to the barber shop with you…”

Not just “No”. The last thing in the world any man wants is to have his better half accompany him to the barber shop. That is sacred he-ground. Just one woman in that setting can cause planets to collide, and bring the Universe to an abrupt end.  If you’ve ever watched Gran Torino, you’ll understand.

Just imagine walking into the local barber shop  with your wife on your arm, talking about what cute things her cats did that day, and asking your barber to please make sure he trimmed your eyebrows. I would have to turn my man-card in immediately. They might even cut my entire package off, because I might be able to counterfeit another card.

Then I could just go to the beauty shop.

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About chuck

Aha! Look what I've created. I... have... made... FIRE!!!
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