Listen Here
(from online ad) FOR SALE: JW SHEARS, 27 TEETH
Funny backstory on these scissors: about five months ago my wife was frustrated with her hair. But salons were closed with the Covid lockdown, so I offered to help by trimming a little. Surprisingly, she agreed.
First, I consulted my University of the World: YouTube. Hair cutting looked pretty easy, at least after watching my max retention limit of three videos. “I’ve got this!” I shouted to Shannon. “I’m off to the beauty supply store to get some hair cuttin’ tools.”
Home again, I was excited to show her my purchases. Instead of smiles, she freaked out at the price. “But these are pro shears, babe, gotta have the best. After all, it’s YOUR hair.” With a little convincing (plus her desperation), I pulled out a kitchen chair and motioned for her to sit. “Relax, I got this.”
I wouldn’t let her watch me work or take a peek until I’d finished. Twenty minutes into my styling, something seemed different from the YouTube results. Oh well. Based on the growing hair pile at my feet, I’d done enough.
“You can look now!” and I pulled the towel from her shoulders. She hurried to the bathroom mirror. I expected joyous exclamations and was ready for hugs because once again in our years of marriage I’d saved the day . . . not a sound. Hmn. Not quite the reaction I expected. Wow, I thought, this is gonna be great. Maybe I can cut other peoples’ hair–
She raced from the bathroom and barrelled towards me: “What the f*ck! Why did I trust you with scissors?!” Her face turned an unhealthy shade of red. “It’s a good thing I don’t have to go any where for the next few months, as if that’ll be enough time for your hatchet job to grow out! This is worse than when my mom cut my bangs!”
I heard more curse words as she stomped away, and that’s when she yelled, “Get rid of those scissors! It’s either me or them, one of us goes!” I promised to make them disappear but simply hid them in a drawer . . . until she found them yesterday.
PS things are slightly better now that her salon opened again. “Jeez,” said the stylist. “You sure have lots of straggly bits . . . I’ll have to take off tons to get these sections even . . . did you have a fight with a weed whacker?”
REDUCED PRICE IF YOU BUY TODAY! I’m still sleeping on the couch. Please help.
Haha oh how I remember Mom’s scissors looming toward my forehead…and my results were much like yours. But bangs or no bangs, you were – and are – one cute gal!!
Thanks for your cute comments, Linda. The weird thing is that these bad bang jobs happened more than once. Was I a willing customer? Did she strap me to a kitchen chair? I really needed to find a better barber . . . or run faster!