Aw, Christ!
Hey, everyone! How is everybody? Really? Aw, that’s great. Because I am goddamn miserable. Yes, miserable. Commence with the pitying. Shower pity upon me whilst I attend my own pity party.
Okay, enough alliteration there. Let’s just say it’s been a shitty week. Without going into too much detail, I can tell you that a relationship ended, a job fell through, and I received without a doubt the worst haircut of my life. I know it’s a cliche that comedians get bad haircuts, but sweet Mother of God, this thing is brutal. I can barely leave the house without a hat on. And all my co-workers made fun of me this morning. That’s how bad it is. Let me tell you how it went down.
Friday, after I taped that bloggers’ roundtable for the show on AOL(more details later, I think it’s airing in a couple weeks) I decided to get my hair cut. It was getting a little long in the back and starting to look like the guys from Young Blood or Slapshot. That’s a good look if you’re going as an 80’s hockey player for Halloween. If you’re living the present day and trying to look halfway decent, however, it is not a good look at all. I went to this salon in Chinatown that I’ve been going to for over a year, when I used to live in Chinatown. I get my hair cut there by a guy named Skyy. I do not believe Skyy is his real name. Perhpas I am wrong, but I don’t think Skyy is a traditional Chinese name. And I know Skyy was born in China because he doesn’t speak all that much English. But that’s okay because Skyy and I have developed an understanding about how I like my hair cut.
When I first started going to him, Skyy would sort of try to give me a fauxhawk or a fashion mullet like his. And if I were a gay man in Chinatown trying to look my best, that would have been great. But I wasn’t, so when Skyy would ask how I liked the mullet, I would politely ask him to trim the back a little more. Which Skyy would always do. See, an excellent relationship.
Anyhonks, I went to the salon on Friday and asked for Skyy. The receptionist told me it was his day off, but I figured as long as I was down there I might as well get my haircut. That’s when things went horribly wrong. I thought Skyy only spoke a little English, but compared to the guy who butchered me, Skyy was the freaking poet laureate. This guy actually tried speaking to me in Mandarin I think. Or perhaps Cantonese. The point is I speak neither of those dialects. So I had to tell hime what kind of haircut I wanted using hand signals. And guess what: I don’t speak American sign language either!
Sweet Lord above, this guy went to town on me. I ended up with one of those mushroom/skate haircuts kids used to get in grade school. Shaved up the sides with a bowl on top. Then he put a whole bunch of product(not sure what kind) and spiked the back up, then combed all the hair in the front to the side. I had never seen anyone in the world with this type of hair style. It looked like Ryan Cabrera’s hair in the back with a Flock of Seagulls in the front.
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When he made it clear that he was finished I actually said, “Are you kidding me? What is this?” I told him that it was all wrong and he had to fix it. He seemed displeased. Then he just started cutting all over the place. I believe this was to spite me. Then I told him just to stop altogether. The shampoo girl rinsed my hair, I paid for my haircut and left.
The next day I got drunk in the middle of the day and stumbled into a salon next to the bar. I asked the lady if she could fix my haircut. She seemed horrified by what the previous guy had done and said she could easily fix it. I thanked her profusely and put my trust in her hands. She took her clippers out, shaved the sides of my head, cut a little off the top and that was it. I paid her 20 dollars for her trouble. I’m pretty sure it’s even worse.
