I must have missed my calling. Over the years, I have become the hair-cutter in the family.
I started out practicing on Bruce many years ago, but he was not a happy customer. I was disappointed that my plans to save barbershop costs were not going as I had wanted. After one exceptionally bad hair-cut, he decided he’d wear a ball cap until his hair grew out.
The only problem with that plan, was that he couldn’t wear the hat at work. He came home that day and said he would never allow me to cut his hair again.
“Why? It saves a ton of money.”
Bruce fumed, “Do you know what happened today? I owed this guy at work a dollar, and when I gave it to him, he handed it back and said that I looked like I had the mange, and to keep the dollar for a good haircut!”
“Oh.” I was dejected. How could I argue with that?
Fast-forward to today. I have been practicing on little Tommy for four years now. When I first started, he didn’t know a good haircut from a bad one. My kind of customer!
He has been through a lot with me, but has become accustomed to my artistic ways with the electric hair cutter. Nowadays, he puts on the black hair-cut cape and giggles, “Welcome to the Hotel Transylvania.”