Right before I came down to North Carolina, I went to the barbershop in New York for a trim.
My regular guy wasn't there, and so without giving it much thought, I placed myself at the mercy of a different barber.
And wound up with the worst haircut of my adult life. It didn't look so bad at the time, but the next morning, when I showered and washed my hair and then tried to comb and part it - well, it looked like an industrial accident had taken place on my scalp. A FloBee malfunction, perhaps.
I bore the snickers and fingerpointing for as long as I could, and when I got down to Raleigh, I took myself over to Man-Mur for some reconstructive barbering.
The only thing for it was to shave the hair close to the scalp and let Mother Nature start over from a nearly-clean slate, which took the barber about three minutes of actual work; with polite conversation and so forth, the entire thing was over in ten minutes.
The effect is not altogether unpleasing. One of the options available to you when you start to lose your hair in earnest is to keep what's left of it trimmed quite short. ;-)
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