When I walked into Sportclips, I sensed something was different but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I looked around and spotted it or should I say….him. There, cutting hair just like the ladies, was a man. Not just any man, a man named Jose who looked like he should be a bartender at a local hole-in-the-wall bar. He looked like a Mexican Chuck Norris, minus the beard of course. No offense, but I was instantly tense. I would not, could not, share a chair with that haircut man over there!
(Sorry got sidetracked, back to the story)
I was next. All three (fine I’ll be politically correct about it) of the “haircut people” had clients in their chairs. Whoever finished first would cut my hair. I began rooting for the tall girl because the other girl just started cutting someone’s hair, so it was already too late for her. Luckily she finished first. Un-luckily, a little boy jumped out of his chair to go show his dad his haircut. The dad asked her to fix something in the back. Next, you can probably guess what happened. Both she and Jose finished at the same time almost racing for a chance to cut my hair. Tall girl was in front, then Jose pulled in the lead, tall girl cut him off turning towards the register, but Jose weaseled his way into the front. He would get to cut my hair and I would get stuck with him cutting my hair.
As Jose began cutting my hair, I was pretty tense. I didn’t enjoy my haircut. “I can’t wait for football to start” he said. I muttered “uh yea”. All I could think was great and “he can’t even avoid the small talk.”
Jose asked me if I wanted my hair washed. I zigged when I should have zagged. My reflex made me say yes, I meant no. The walk to the washing station felt like my last mile. Suddenly, what Sportclips called the “locker room” was much darker than I remembered it being, scary even. “Is this the chair?” I asked. Sadly, it was “the chair”. I sat down waiting for the hair washing to begin. This entire time I am about as uncomfortable as I could be. I was not going to get a hot towel from this guy. There was no way that was happening. Then I felt the hot towel being put on my face. And I knew what was coming next… a face massage from a guy… and not even a feminine guy (not that, that would be much better), but a Jose. I can’t explain how uncomfortable I was feeling; some guy’s man hands massaged my steam towel covered face, and it was bad. The kind of bad you don’t talk about because you are sure you’ll never live it down. Lucky for me, I’m not surrounded by people who give me a hard time...
After the face massage from a guy, Jose began washing my hair. The water was freezing and I didn’t even get conditioner! At this point I was actually happy about getting to skip the conditioner stage. I rose from the chair feeling stressed and tense. I had survived the experience. I missed my old barber. I missed my beer at Hair Mechanix. Jose handed me his card and said “Thanks, my name is Jose. Ask for me next time.”
“No way, Jose.” I replied (not really).
As I walked out to my car, somewhat disappointed that I was charged full price, I looked at my reflection. Jose gave me the best hair cut Sportclips has yet.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m still not going to be asking for him next time. The next time Jose can cut my hair there will need to be a sign outside that says "Jose’s Barbershop."
