Shearing a sheep

Haircuts are traumatic experiences. One miscalculation of the scissors and there goes a perfectly good head of hair. The next two weeks are spent growing out a massive mistake while trying to convince people it’s supposed to look like that.

It takes a while for someone to get used to cutting my hair. I’ve had a lot of people try. Some have succeeded and many have failed.

For the past few years, I’ve been going to the same person. She knows what she’s doing and takes almost a full half-hour to cut my hair. Large clumps of luxurious curls fall to the floor, resembling sheep's wool.

But there’s one problem…

Recently, she’s been working on the nape of my neck with unnecessary detail. She uses the grooming tool to shave hair that’s not there.

The clipper keeps on going further down, passing the nape to my shoulders and down my back. It’s provoking more hair to grow, like shaving; the more you shave, the thicker the hair grows back.

She’s lucky she hasn’t caught me on a particularly cunty day. When that day comes, I’ll snap at her and say, “If you keep on going any lower, I’ll have to ask you to shave my ass, too.”

Until that day comes, I’ll keep on going to her, but if the hair on my back starts to grow, she’ll be paying for the waxing.