This blog is the first guest blog I've had on the site, brought to you by "The Maestro." If anyone else is interested in hitching their wagon to my star, feel free to submit ideas or entire blogs from time to time (I like this approach better, I'm kind of a lazy person, if you've done a decent enough job writing I'll just post your submission as is. If the idea is good but your writing sucks I'll re-write and give you a shout) to thealttab@gmail.com.
This particular entry touches on something I'm sure all guys can relate to, at least those of us that moved on from SuperCuts once we graduated middle school.
I cheated on my girlfriend of nearly 10 years with an exotic pr*stitute yesterday, and I can’t stop thinking about it. Well, not exactly…I got my haircut at a different barber after going to the same one for the last 10 years. Now let me start by saying I’ve never cheated on my girlfriend with a foreign pr*stitute, but I imagine this must be exactly what it feels like. Then again, I’ve never actually had either (as far as you know), so we’re making a lot of assumptions here. Anyways, I just got back from a bachelor party in LA, so I was still kind of in “guy’s weekend” mode…had Monday off to recover, and my regular barber was “away for the weekend” (he’s closed on Mondays). I needed a haircut bad, and figured I’d never have this opportunity again. I go to this place around the corner from me (fittingly enough called Guy’s), peruse the selection of Playboys on the table to get me in the mood…all the while looking over my shoulder to see if I’d been noticed. As soon as I sat down in the chair and the clippers started going, I got a sinking feeling in my stomach. Oh no…this is wrong…what have I done? When the hair started falling off, I realized there was no going back, so I just had to suck it up and wait till it was over (I think there’s a certain Bobby Knight quote that applies here, but this is a family blog.) It was terrible…there was no conversation, and what was spoken was spoken in broken English. He didn’t know “how I like it”, and I ended up getting overcharged at the end. The silver lining was that he did something to me that I had never had done before. When the warm shaving cream and razor blade went around the edges of my hair, it was quite the rush. At the same time, I feel like its way too short, and whenever people comment on it, I get uncomfortable and try to change the subject. I’m already dreading the next time I see my regular barber and he asks me where I’ve been. I want to say I’ll never go back, but hey, a guy has his needs.
-The Maestro
