A friend of mine recently wrote about the small barbers that we have around here. Now originally I had dreamt up a fabulous new look for myself, and was attempting to grow my hair longer in a particular direction. But after hearing from my boss that I was begining to look like a 16 year old, I decided to go and get my hair snipped. So, back to the barber shops. These places may lack the plush seating, the glossy hair-stylist-weekly magazine, the 24 different types of conditioner, and the very-out-there stylist - heck these guys must have practiced their first haircut on a friggin goat for all I care, but I'm happy with my hairdo. I've been going to these guys since I was about 13, so they pretty much know what's in store if they mess up my hair.

I think the real sign that a boy is growing up is when they let you sit in the chair at the barber shop. If you're young, you're most likely short, so they make you sit on this plank of wood that they keep on the chair's armrests, so that they can see your tiny litle head and not snip your ears off. When I used to sit on that I felt like I was being served as a rack of lamb or something. But truly, the day of 'teenage-hood' comes when they put that damn plank back in the storeroom and let you sit in the chair. I used to be absolutely terrified of a hair dryer when I was young - the loud roaring noise was enough to bring tears to my eyes. Today, I won't go out anywhere without first getting a nice hot blow.

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