For the past month David Crosby’s “Almost Cut My Hair” has been going through my head as I’ve been wondering what to do with the tangled mess on my head.
Well, yesterday, I finally succumbed to the need and headed over to Big Hair in Roscoe Village. What resulted has to be the worst haircut in the history of this planet.
Why did I go there? I heard that you can get a haircut there for twelve dollars. Well, that much is true, but I also forgot that you usually get what you pay for. I’m not very particular about my hair, so I don’t really like to pay ridiculous salon prices for someone to take scissors to my head. However, this is ridiculous in itself.
How difficult is it to cut hair? One side is shorter than the other. There are huge uncut tufts of hair sticking out from the trimmed line. It looks worse than beforehand; I look like I really did get into a fight with a lawnmower. Seriously, here, I’m trying to figure out how to do emergency damage control without paying more money for a REAL haircut before showing my face outside again. Someone suggested shaving it all off and starting clean.
All I can do is exact my revenge by telling you all: DON’T GO TO BIG HAIR IN ROSCOE VILLAGE. Don’t be tempted by the twelve dollar haircut! Heed my words! I’d show you a picture, and maybe that would convince you more than my words could, but NO! I cannot in good conscience unleash it onto the unsuspecting public. This hair must be stopped! Those of you who know me know that I hate exclamation points! So I must be really serious!