A Bad Haircut

So one of my biggest concerns to moving to Greeley was finding a barber who could cut my hairl I hate trying to explain this to non-Black people because everyone swears that there is not much to cutting our hair. When I say I'm looking for a barber people say, "why don't you use my guy? He fades me up." They never realize how my hair texture is different than theirs. And no, not everyone can cut Black hair.


So, I took a recommendation from someone who said the people at a beauty shop called "Cheeks" could cut my hair. I was a little hesitant but I figured, "hey if it's known that they can cut Black hair then cool." I drove to Fort Collins, which is about 30 minutes away and sat in the chair of a woman named Sonia. Sonia then began by trying to prep my hair with a comb. I knew right then I was in for a bad haircut. She clearly was not moving my hair anywhere with that comb and obviously needed a brush. I thought about stopping her, going to my truck and getting my spare brush out of the glove compartment. I let it go.

She then began to clumsily cut off my hair (only after trying to cut using a 2 guard...my hair is not that long) proving that the clippers were uncomfortable in her hand. Once she got everything "even" she then began to work on edging me up. I should have stopped her before she got to the front and just lined myself up but I guess I was curious to see what kind of job she could do. The result...she kept messing up and eventually pushed my hairline so far back I actually aged by 5 years. My natural hairline is pretty normal and straight but she somehow managed to give me a receding hairline...and it wasn't even a straight receding hairline!


I never realized how a haircut can alter your mood. A good cut and you feel great about yourself. You feel confident and you get a little pep in your step. A bad haircut and you feel like crap. You're embarassed to go out in public and your confidence drops. It's kind of like the difference between wearing an Armani suit and some beat up overalls. You just feel better when you know you look better. So I left with my tails between my legs and my ego bruised. I start work next week so I don't feel like I'll be starting at my best. What's worse is that I still don't have a barber out here that can cut my hair and now I'm back to scratch. I might just have to blow out my hair like Huey.