There is Nothing Worse Than Getting a Bad Haircut and I Got a REALLY REALLY Bad Haircut
So on Friday the Yankees and Indians played Game 2 of the ALDS. This was the infamous Joe Girardi fuck-up game where he failed to challenge the strike three call and later mismanaged the bullpen, leading to one of the worst losses in my sports life-time. I woke up Saturday miserable. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t talk, I couldn’t move from bed. I had a haircut scheduled with my usual guy who I don’t even have to tell what to do. He’s a magic man. I was so out of it and refused to get out of bed that I cancelled my haircut.
When I woke up on Sunday I realized I really needed the haircut. It had been over two months since my last cut and my hair was starting to curl on the sides for Christ’s sake. I called up my barbershop as soon as they opened and asked if my guy was in. Of course he was not, so I had the option between an older woman or this new young kid. I panicked and went with the kid even though I couldn’t tell on the phone if the receptionist was saying his name was Rob, Bob, or Ron. (thick Italian accents will do that).
I got to the barbershop and was greeted with hellos as if I was friends with the barbers working that day (I’m anti-social so this didn’t add up). One guy (he had cut my hair once and did a solid job) asked me if I was his 11:00. I for sure wasn’t but went along with it because I knew he was competent. He joked around that my original guy told him what to do and he was gonna take care of me. This just didn’t sound accurate but I chuckled and played along. Five minutes passed as I wanted for him to finish up and that’s when some other kid two years younger than me walked in. This was that was guy’s 11:00. I had the new barber in the back of the shop. Gulp.
I think his name was Ron, but to be honest I blacked out from the moment his buzzer hit my hair. I told him what I usually get which is a fade on the side, but nothing crazy short a long with trimming the top with scissors but not too short. The stress was obvious to not chop my head off as if I was getting shipped off the marines. Ron was clueless and assured me he understood. He for sure did not.
He began with small talk as any barber would with a new client. With my usual guy we would get into an argument about LeBron, talk football, and how work was going. This new kid asked, “What’s new?” A weird question from someone I’d never met before. I played along and didn’t make things weird praying this wouldn’t get awkward. I asked him if he was into baseball (praying he didn’t say he was only into soccer because it’s generally a group of Italians who are big soccer fans) he responded in broken English no, and said he only watched soccer. Gulp. We didn’t speak again.
That’s when he buzzed my hair from the bottom up. Completely shaving the bottom off. What the fuck happened to not too short? I’m talking all my hair just fell to the floor. I immediately got the coldest shiver down the back of my spine. Yeah no biggie dude not like I work at a giant media company where there’s camera on at literally all times. No big deal, not like we have a national radio show that would eat this up in a second.
Hank had his usual fun, as did others.
I mean this idiot barber just had zero concept of what a fade is. He shaved the bottom half of my head and then left the rest long. That’s not a fade dude. I literally look like I’m wearing a giant yarmulke (the spelling of that word always confuses me). Chaps basically wished me good luck overseas thinking I was being shipped off in the upcoming draft. It’s been a tough few days. When you’re 23 years old and having your hair compared to 29 year old Nate who’s worn a hat everyday for the last four years that’s tough. The only thing I can do right now is pray it grows back as soon as humanly possible. I will then burn down that barbershop and find someone new. Probably a woman to be honest because I trust female barbers in a time of crisis. Here at Barstool Sports we respect women. They actually know what a fade is. They don’t just take a buzzer and shave your fucking head off.
The craziest part of this, and we talked about it on radio yesterday, was that I tipped this bartender as if everything was fine. We can be the most insufferable asshole pricks in everyday life, but when you’re in that barbershop hot seat you turn into this little bitch boy. You stay silent and just nod your head regardless of what happens. You tip your guy no matter what. It’s crazy, but it’s true. You don’t dare question what they’re doing and if they’re brain dead. You’re in a sunken place. You’re paralyzed, having no control over the next twenty minutes. Now I have to live with this horrible haircut for about three to four weeks. It’s gonna be Hat Szn for a WHILE folks.
The Yankees are 2-0 and have tied the series against Cleveland since I got this ridiculous monstrosity of a haircut however…