they forget to get their hair cut.

the woman who usually cut my hair wasn't there. i looked around, and i saw her daughter, but she wasn't there. someone else was gonna cut my hair, and there wasn't a thing i could do about. i thought i'd give it a try, though. i might as well. i wasn't that satisfied with the last haircut i had been given anyway. maybe this new woman would be better. there was always a chance that she would be better now, wasn't there? i decided i would give her a chance.

the woman said to come take a seat, so i did. there were only two seats, and the third seat was a kid's seat. i sat in the one that wasn't a kid's seat. she asked if she had cut my hair before. i told her that she hadn't. she said that i looked familiar, though, and i answered that i had been in the shop before. she said that pam was probably the one who cut my hair before. i told her that yes, pam was in fact the woman who would sometimes cut my hair.

she asked what i would like to do, and by that, she was referring to what i would like to have done with my hair. i have been asked this question at barbershops my whole life, and my answer is always the same. i don't care. please just don't make me look stupid. of course, i couldn't say that, so i told her i would like a number four around the back and sides. i said that my hair grows forward, though she could probably already tell that from looking at me. she said that she would do the number four, and then she would make the rest of it blend in.

she started using the number four blade to trim my sides. she asked what i would be doing today. i wasn't sure what to say, so i said i would be working on a writing sample. i felt that if i said it, it would come true. she said that she loves writing, but she doesn't feel that she is good at it. what was there to be good at? you put some words down, and you hoped to god you didn't sound retarded. she said she liked singing, too, but she wasn't good at that, either.

she told me that she was going to shampoo my hair. she ran the water through my hair and then scrubbed my head with shampoo. she asked if i liked to read. i said that i did, and that i had started a book club recently. she asked what i liked to read, and i told her some things. i asked if she liked to read, and she said she did, but that she hadn't read anything in a while. she had two kids, and that was probably why she hadn't read anything in a while.

i asked where pam was, and i felt rude for asking. she said that she was at doos or dues or something, and i didn't say anything. i asked how long she had been working there, and she told me that she owned the shop, and that she had owned it for two years. i told her that was cool, and i really meant it. i thought it was cool that she owned a barbershop in columbia city. i asked if her shop had a twitter page, and she said no. i told her that it was easy to set one up, and she said that she had a twitter page for herself.

what would i do with a twitter page for the shop, she wanted to know. i told her it was a way of cheap advertising. i told her that she would get followers and that when she had special events or discounts or offers, she could tweet about it, and her followers would know. i didn't feel like i did a good job of explaining how she could best utilize twitter. she said that she just followed celebrities on twitter. i told her that the real shaq is funny. she said that she followed him.

when it was all over, i thanked her, paid the bill, and left her with a $5 tip.

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