2005-05-06 - 8:06 p.m.

Listen up, Mr Barber: I don't want to talk to you, just cut my fucking hair. The lies I ended up telling this guy! I'm going to Amsterdam soon with my girlfriend, apparently. It's her birthday, y'see. Yeah, I'm working for the city, it's money in my pocket. He was smalltalking the fuck out of me and I couldn't help myself slipping into subterfuge. On and on it went. I asked for a simple buzz-cut thinking a mutilation of my barnet was worth it to get out of there quickly. But no! This guy was a perfectionist. Frustrated ice-sculptor. He had Surgical Focus, man. The clippers slid over and over my scalp, tweaking, pruning, honing. Blizzards of dandruff swirled before my comotatose disembodied face, staring constantly back at me from atop the black cape enshrouding my person as I discussed football, other barbers, his retirement plan and other endless banalities. The council owns the lease? How FUCKING FASCINATING! Just stop snipping! It's done! It's finished! Take my money and let me go!

There's something very emasculating about surrendering yourself to some garrelous gimp with access to blades. I feel helpless, displayed and miserable when I'm getting my biannual sheering. The big bloody window adds to the feeling that you're part of some Atrocity Exhibiton for the passing rabble. The big mirror and the spotlight make the interrogation particularly apt if no less horrendous. My hair is the srongest physical evidence of either past misdeeds or a rotten soul. Staring at my greasy receeding hairline for 40 fucking minutes while some dipshit babbles inanites at me and then takes my money isn't my idea of a pleasent afternoon. Something about being groomed by another man... very quaint. Do I want any gell? Have you got any masks? On my quiting the premises he gives me a flyer with the opening times, just in case I was going to go down there at 4 am or something and start banging on the door. I suppose I do look like a mental patient with Leukaemia now.

He got my sideburns spot-on, though. Fucking perfectionist.

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