Today I took care of the second item on the list of "Important but Attainable Goals"--getting a haircut. It's been about 7 weeks since my last haircut. While playing frisbee yesterday I would occasionally catch a glimpse of shadow and I looked distasterous.
I usually get my haircut at some chain place in a strip mall. Places like Great Clips, Super cuts, etc. But I'm nowhere near a strip mall, so it's barbershop time. I know of two places in my neighborhood. The first is an "African Hair Style Shop." This shop is run by a Senegalese man (so says the placard out front) and he specializes in braids. My hair wasn't that long, so I passed on the braids. The other place is a Unisex barbershop, run by an older Hispanic man. Earlier I was joking with Jen that I might come back with a mohawk, since my Spanish is non-existent.
When I sat down I was asked a single question: Short? Medium? Usually when I get my hair cut I'm confronted by a series of questions to which I have no useful answer. I don't remember if I want it layered, or over the ear. I have no real concern if the hair toward my neck is squared off or rounded. That said, the question short or medium seemed a little too spare for my taste. I chose medium (looking at my hair now I shudder to think what passes for short). Immediately the man reached for clippers. It was then that I realized that I was a rarity among the people who sat in that chair. I didn't want my hair buzzed or clippered. After some discussion and persuasion I was able to get my hair cut with scissors. All in all it went well, though I was facing out towards the street so for the entire process I had no sense of what was happening to my hair. Not being able to see your hair cut is a little unnerving.
After the majority of the work was completed, he leaned into my field of vision and said, "Your hair is hard it's....." He began to search for a word and trail off. I helpfully suggested, "It's thick." Immediately after saying this I realized how absurd the notion was. I'm in a Hispanic barbershop and I was suggesting that he was having trouble because *my* hair was thick. Ignoring me, mercifully, he offered his own analysis of my hair: "It's spicy."
As should be clear from most of this experience, my knowledge of hair and haircutting is pretty limited. But I certainly never knew nor imagined that my hair was spicy. That's hot.
UPDATE: Last night I had a dream wherein I was chased around a parking garage and when eventually caught my head was shaved into a fade. Though there was no mention of the spiciness of my hair.