I am the current event.

I got a haircut the other day. I vowed a long while ago that I personally would never pay for my own haircut.  Since my head looked homeless, my mother decided to pay for it.

We were eating at the Chipotle off El Toro.  I made the rash decision to get the haircut at Sportclips.  Let me tell you about my time there.

The frequent customer at Sportclips is one who:

1) love sports, fine smelling shampoos and overrated back massages

2) thinks women are good only for haircuts and shampooing hair

3) love sports, fine smelling shampoos and overrated back massages

In other words: a stereotypical man.

I usually get a haircut a the Haircutters and occasionally my garage, so the idea that I was in a new place scared me.  Don’t let Sportclips fool you… everything everywhere is sports.

Because it was my first time there, they offered to “upgrade” me from just a normal haircut, to the MVP.  So, instead of paying 30 dollars for the MVP, I only had to pay 24 dollars. The MVP included not just a haircut, but a massaging shampoo “treatment” (I will use the word ‘treatment’ very loosely) and a back  “massage” (same reason).

My hairdresser had a very stripper-esque name.  Alina, or Alinia… or Sparkles.  She brought me to the last chair in the room and Amanda followed.  (I think if Amanda had not been there, I would the situation would have been even more uncomfortable.)  I was asked what type of haircut I wanted.  I told her.  She began cutting… very slowly.

10 minutes later, she asked me if the length of my hair was ok, as she held up the little patch of hair from head she had been working on all that time.

30 minutes later, she finally finished cutting.

She asked me to walk back to get a massaging shampoo.  I wanted to say no, but I figured I wasn’t paying for it, so it wouldn’t hurt.  Usually when I get my hair shampooed, it is very quick and comfortable.  This new and improved shampoo took twice as long, and the seat I sat in was so awkward.

She put shampoo on my head and began shampooing.  I’ll give her this: She tried really hard to massage my scalp.  But I could not get past the fact that she was terrible at it.  She asked often, “is this good” and “is the pressure alright?”  I was expecting her to begin a lapdance while holding clippers and some scissors.

To top it all off, she put a warm towel on my face for a few minutes and left the room. I was expecting them to take a polaroid of me as a joke, because there is no way that anyone can take this seriously.  And last but not least was my back massage.  I sat back down in my haircutting chair, and she took out a cheap looking massage tool.  I laughed.

“Is the pressure good?”

I couldn’t believe that people actually go in to Sportclips for the “special treatment.”  As for me, I’m going to stick with free haircuts in my garage.