Barber And....

The initials of my last name must be an acronym for S.hoot M.e I.n T.he H.ead!! Perhaps I bring it on myself. As I browse the other blogs I'm confined not to complain too much. There's much more than me happening around here. Babies on the way, babies just arrived, marital problems, people stuck in jobs that drive them to an unhappy place in their brain. As I ponder my life there's a tendency to either be overjoyed at the blessings, or completely dismayed by the negativity that I encounter. Never a medium. So, out of respect of others who definately have it rougher than me, I will defer to more a more amusing outlook.
So, I'm off to get my hair cut. I pull into Wal-Mart.............................I'll give you a minute to make fun of my choice of barber. (Random thought: Would a hairstylist that collects books be a "Barbarian?"
In to Wal-Mart I go. I sign in. I wait about 4 minutes. The girl calls my name. I sit down in the chair and......let me 'splain son-thing to Ju! We need not visit the awkward meter that is so prevalent in my life. Needless to say, I am ususally uncomfortable in a setting that allows complete strangers to be close to me while another stranger is cutting my hair. This instance was no different. However, I knew it wouldn't last long, 'cause ya just get the clippers and get to buzzing. So, there I sat. Patiently waiting as she zinged past my ears. When, all of a sudden, the phone rings. Though there were several workers present, MY girl had to go answer the phone! Leaving me with a HALF cut head of hair. One side buzzed, one side Buckwheat! So there I am, 2 feet from the customer next to me. In plain view of all the shoppers passing by. I KNOW I heard them snicker as they looked over. "Look at the half-head-shaved-guy" they were probably saying.
She came back over, finished up.......and no tip from me! Satisfaction met.
This was also the same day that Taylor Swift (the pitchiest country singer alive)'s cd was being released. Being completely in tune with my wife's wants I strolled over to the music section to purchase said cd. Walked up to the check-out terminal thing. Waited a bit. The girl in the camera section said "I can get you over here." I placed the cd down and noticed, on the credit card machine that there was a spot for a customer service evaluation. "Was your representative friendly?" it asked. I thought "Off to a good start" - After I swipped she placed the cd in a plastic bag and I felt the uncontrollable desire to tell her that this was for my wife and not for me, because I didn't want her to think that this guy with little hairs on his neck just wandered in here to get this for himself. - You feel me?
So, I opened the trap and said "This is for my wife, not me" - instead of lightly chuckling, as any normal person would do, she just gave me this look as if I just kicked a pile of puppies and said "ew-kay?" - Evaluation Answer?: NO. Not friendly at all!
Enclosing, as I exited the Supercenter, I overheard a lady on her cell. As I got closer she said "Why do I have 5 missed calls from your mother"? - This led me to think, if she called that many times wouldn't it be atleast remotely important? Shouldn't you call her first? What kind of relationship do you have that you would avoid calling her back, only to ask you spouse to do so? Makes me laugh.
So, I don't have it so bad. Neither do you, because you're nothing like me, and are spared the awkward moments that hunt me down and pounce on me like a panda bear in heat!!

Have an opportune day!

The Dave-O