The stylist sat me down in her chair earlier this evening and asked if a #4 guard would be acceptable. "Sure," I said, not really knowing much about the guards on clippers, other than the #4 had been noted in my computerized file, and I liked my last haircut. I placed my glasses on the counter in front of me, and proceeded to inspect my surroundings. Likely a bad turn of events, as I cannot read nor discern anything without my glasses. Unable to see and at the mercy of who I am sure was a well-intentioned stylist, I began the typical small talk. "You guys staying fairly busy?," I inquired. "Surprisingly yes," she said. "I guess when people cannot afford a $30 haircut, they come see us for a much cheaper one." You have now learned a bit about my preference of hair cutting establishments -- a $12 Great Clips haircut gets the job done for me.
I pondered a bit about the nature of luxury. Does the upper middle class suburbanite really forgo the expensive haircut and settle for a trip to the local strip mall? No time to wonder about such things, the haircut was done almost as quickly as it started. We continued on our evening errands before heading home.
We tuned in to the Predators game as they continued their march toward the playoffs. I took notes in order to write a story for a start-up site called FanBase. Keep in mind that I have never written a story about hockey, and the last time I wrote a sports piece at all was when I interned for the American Junior Golf Association. Hockey and golf have few similarities (other than the stick mildly resembles a golf club, and the nomenclature is equally complex).
My story is written with several revisions to correct glaring misspellings of eastern European names. I have since decided to abandon my ambitions of being a hockey writer; not because it is particularly difficult but because I spent entirely too much time writing and not enough actually watching the game. Perhaps I can try my hand at other hobbies.