For the past year, I’ve been operating a little side business. I haven’t said anything about it because I don’t necessarily have all the proper licenses, and I didn’t want the Feds kicking down my door.
Today, however, I shuttered that side hustle, so I guess it’s okay to come clean.
The Barber Shop on the Hill, LLC was a one man operation with only one customer. Essentially, I gave myself haircuts in the bathroom mirror for the past year because of the pandemic. And when I say “haircuts”, I am using that term EXTREMELY loosely.
It was more like I’d get frustrated at how out of control my hair looked, and I’d just chop away at it with a tiny pair of scissors I kept in the medicine cabinet.
I never cut off part of an ear, drew blood, or heard any mockery from friends or work colleagues, so I think I did a halfway decent job.
Come to think of it, I’ve worn a lot of hats over the past year. I told myself it was because there has been this year long draft in the air, but maybe the truth is I was trying to hide my not so handiwork as a stand in for my barber.
It’s not like I have a complicated hairstyle, or had any photo shoots over the past year. I just needed to look somewhat presentable when I went out in public, which wasn’t often.
I blogged recently about wanting to try to inch closer to normal now that I’ve received my vaccinations. The first step was this week’s trip to the grocery store. I only bought enough food for a week because it’s time to stop stocking my panic pantry, and to start going back to a regular weekly grocery schedule.
The next logical step seemed to be finally closing down the in home barber shop, and allowing a pro to cut my hair.
So, when I was checking out at the grocery store, I asked for some cash back so I’d have money to pay the barber. Believe it or not, one of the reasons I hadn’t gone for a haircut already was because I never carry any cash, and my barber is a cash only business.
Yes, we do it old school here in Maine!
For those of you who are wondering, I came clean with my barber immediately. I confessed that I had been cutting my own hair for the past year, and asked her not to judge me too harshly.
The barber didn’t say anything about the mess on my head, nor did she offer me a job, so I have to assume my overall performance as a man of the scissors was nothing special.
It did feel nice to be out of the house, though. I was the only one in the place, and it was nice to participate in that forced barber shop conversation again.
I promised to be back in about a month, and she did not make me promise to keep away from the scissors when I’m in the bathroom. I guess she was confident that I’d return because I clearly hadn’t mastered the art of self-barbering over the past year.
All in all, it felt like a big step towards normalcy. To badly misquote Neil Armstrong, it was one small step for man, and one hairy leap for normalcy.