The Haircut

I look like a Chia Pet when my hair gets long. As it approaches critical mass I look like Don King in the morning. Unlike Don, however, I've found gel. Although I haven't derived an equation, it seems that as the hair length increases the gel quantity approaches infinity. So I decided to swing by a hair cut place on the way home. After calling around I found that Super Cuts didn't have a wait. I gave my hair cutting request and the lady went to work. She cut, trimmed and told her life story until she was done. She handed me the mirror and spun my chair so I could see my head from all sides. It looked pretty good but, again, I have a Chia head. I asked her to double-check one spot. She grabbed the clippers, hit the spot, stopped and mumbled an expletive under her breath. I asked, "was that the guard for the side of my head?" She replied with a shy, "yes." I said no big deal just fix it. She proceeded to apologize for the next 8 minutes while re-cutting my hair incredibly short. Once she finished making me aerodynamic, she checked me out at the register, applied a fat discount all while apologizing. It was an interesting experience and, I can only imagine what the people in the waiting room thought of the apologizing barber who finished up with the shaven sheep... baaaa.