The haircut

Whenever I move, it takes me awhile before I find someone I like.

I'm talking about getting haircuts.

I'll bounce from one place to another, from barbershops to salons, sampling everyone until I find someone that knows me better than I know myself. Took me two years this time, but I found one.

I know what you're thinking: "Who cares?" Well let me tell you, I am a very lazy man. The kind of lazy that will take an extra two minutes to do something now if it means I save three minutes later. This translates into haircuts. I found my person, and they can deliver the same boring, basic, unassuming haircut that every 30-something married father is going for. I don't have to sit there trying to explain every little detail, I just sit down and it happens.

I'm just trying to remind myself of that, as I look at the incredibly non-standard haircut someone else just gave me. Every pass by a mirror reminds me to be a little more patient.