R OY A L G R E G OR Y: April 2009

HAIRCUT TIME

I left university early, 5:53 pm and we finished at 3, so not early but we stayed back to finish and assignment. We were stuck on calculating the deflection for our 8.4 by 8.4 metre concrete slab indented for a multistorey car park. I left early in order to get my haircut. It was no coincidence that Thursday is late night shopping and today was Thursday; I had planed to get my haircut on this day since earlier this week.

I arrived at the bus stop, rode bike from bus stop to shops, they told me to come back at 7, I rode home, ate, and drove back in mom’s car.

I arrived back at the hairdressers close to exactly 7 pm, waited at counter while the hairdresser man finished drying a woman’s hair. He finished, moved to the counter and started playing with his computer; he glanced up and told me to take a seat, looking at the men’s side of the hairdresser saloon. It was the men’s side because there were only three chairs as appose to the several that were on the woman’s side, there were male models with funny hair, as appose to the female models on the other side. I sat down and starting thinking, to occupy myself and to justify the fact that I was not intending on talking to the blonde hairdresser.

She asks me if I'm going out this weekend. I respond. The conversation continues for a minute and she learns where I go to uni and what I do. I nearly asked her what she does, as an automated response to whenever people ask me what I do. We chat for a minute. It’s nice that she tries to make the effort but I'm not interested, I just want less hair.

$32.95 for 75mls of wax?! That’s more then a bottle of Ouzo! I notice the price tag on some wax containers sitting on the counter in front of me enticing me to purchase with new haircut in order to improve my new look. Pity I don’t care that much, have plenty at home and am not doing anything drastically new with my hair, unlucky advertiser man. I concentrate hard on the price tag for a few minutes just to make sure it does say 32.95 not 22.95, also a good waste of time. Not that it makes much of a difference anyway, just that 22.95 is more like a bottle of good wine, or ok port. I'm no alcoholic; I'm simply converting the price so that the youth of all countries will understand the absurd price of the wax.

I believe that fly on the mirror is bopping with impeccable timing to the music. A dancing fly who enjoys 92.9? Well it was the only fly in there and the only one I've seen all day. Perhaps it’s a rare dancing bread of fly that hairdressers have created, Frankenstein style, so that people such as myself can watch the fly bop in the mirror rather then make pointless conversation with the 18yo hair dresser.

Those promotional posters advertising men’s hair products should be inverted similar to the way that ambulances do so. That way customers can read them whilst getting their haircut, though then again I do like to keep up my practise in reading inversely. They could at least have girls on them.

For this very reason I would prefer to sit on the female’s side of the hairdresser – so long as there are no mommas gossiping like they do in movies – as their posters have attractive women on them. By the way now would be a good time to tell you that I am 19 years of age, not some 50 year old horny old bastard who used up his internet quota downloading porn and now he, or she, has to get happy by looking at the posters in hairdresser saloons and walking around shopping centres perving on young girls who are dressed inappropriately for their age because they watch too much television and because their mothers think its 'cute' that they are growing up or what ever who cares the fly is back.

No, now he’s gone flying again – he because he was on the male side of the hairdresser saloon. I followed him flying behind my using the mirror, but he is too quick and I loose him.

Man its hot, I should have taken off my windproof, very warm jacket that I wore to uni today only because I have to ride my bike to the bus stop because my car is currently incapable of being driven due to an accident which I will not recite.

She notices me investigating what she has just done to my hair and asks me a question; do you want the sides in? I'm not too sure what I if I do, I'm not too sure what I want, or if I understand what she is asking so I just nod and shrug, as if to say HURRY THE FUCK UP, I DONT GIVE A SHIT. I add a smile laugh so she won’t suspect that I just yelled at her in my head.

I dunno if the back is short enough, just cut it I don’t care.

24 dollars 50!? For a uni student who just crashed his car! I bet they will claim the increase is due to the current world financial economic crisis (it’s not officially a recession, although it is immanent). I decide not to ask and tell her ‘you to’ in response to her telling me to have a good night.

I come home; eat the other half of my Anzac buskit, that’s how funny countries like New Zealand pronounce it, and then I walk into the room in which my mother is situated. She briefly examines my hair and doesn’t change her facial expression as if to say, its ok, nothing great. I inform her that I didn’t know what to tell the hairdresser and that’s why it turned out how it did. She says mmm, it looks a bit funny. I agree but don’t care, in a week I will have forgotten about it. Mom advises me to take a picture next time. good idea expect that I never get a good haircut and by the time it looks ok, I've forgotten about the fact that I never know what to tell the hairdresser what to do with my hair, and forget to take it. Any other photos of me with semi decent hair are on my computer. It is a laptop but as if I'm going to bring that just to show the hairdresser, they would think I'm more insane then I am. I tell mom that I've seen this episode of 2.5 men, explain what happens then leave. I didn’t wreck anything, it was near the end.

longest post yet, i apologise to future me who may go back and read this. anyone else reading is stupid.