Cupcake is making an appointment to get her hair done before school starts. Get that? Make an appointment. Not just walk in. Of course, it isn’t just a “haircut”. It is a style, coloring, something called balayage, fluff, layer, blow dry, and a price tag to reflect all these things. An hour later he is still snipping. Not sure what, because he has been snipping the same square inch since 30 minutes ago. He has 9 different types of brushes, each one seems to require 100 strokes, and then more snipping. When he is finally done, there does not seem to be any residual hair on the floor. Huh. Then comes the blow dry, with comb motions that defy physics.
I am a guy.
I go to my barber. Walk in. He says “hey”. I say “hey”, I sit down, he cuts my hair. I give him a $20. Done. The entire thing takes 20 minutes. No reservation book. No “how would you like this today?”. No words spoken concerning my gray hairs. Just the sound of scissors and trimmers, while I watch whatever sports he has on the TV.