Stan’s Hair Design

ok so i have long wavy hair, that i usually like to keep medium length. we are talking about an inch long. i like to have it a bit longer on top than on the sides. but i still like the length! the woman i usually go to down the street was backed up and i desperately needed a haircut. so i stopped into stans. i specifically asked for a TRIM, a TRIM, with it a little longer on top…
he picks up the clippers and buzzes my head in literately about 1 minute. before i even have a chance to object the damage is done. he was very inaccurate, fast, and harsh. worse — i get home… and no joke… it looks like i did it myself with my left hand. horribly uneven ALL OVER.
im the type of guy who really doesn’t care about hair too much, and when i looked in the mirror at home i got choked up… im now going to go in the bathroom and buzz my head completely…
sorry stan, im sure you’re the worlds best grandpa, but please, put a sign outside saying you specialize in military cuts or something =(

It was hat day. Hat day means my hair is just long enough to be unruly. Unruly hair makes me dangerously close to looking less awesome. This kind of thing is not an option when you have an obligation to the rest of society to always look awesome.
I had never been to Stan’s but I had past it on the corner of 30^th and Thorn about a thousand times. I decided to drop in because there was a line at my usual barber and we all know that Ryan R. does not wait in lines.
The inside looks like the bridge of an antiquated fishing boat, with maps, globes, and other nautical devices strewn about. There was a musty smell to Stan’s, a smell that can only be described as a mixture of pomade, old spice, and old man. It was also empty… Where was the infamous Stan?
Before I could take a seat in the brown leather chair, and surly-​looking old man with a 1930’s hair cut shuffled into the room. Attached to Stan was an oxygen tank and a shit-​eating grin. His scissors glistened under the florescent lights and I could tell that this guy wanted to give me a haircut.
As I went to speak, Stan just pointed to the chair and said nothing– an indication that he already knew what I wanted. I told him what I wanted anyways but I don’t think he could hear me. Maybe he just wasn’t listening. Maybe he had given so many haircuts in his 80-​year tenure as a barber that he didn’t have to listen. Maybe I was just over analyzing the situation.
Stan’s 95-​year-​old hands went to work as I wondered what I was going to look like. Oh please Stan, don’t have a stroke and stab me in the ear. The hair cut only took about 7 minutes. Stan retrieved a mirror from the shelf, a mirror that was as old as him, and proudly showed me my new haircut.
I looked like Andy fucking Dufrense… Sonuvabitch! Well, whatever… You win some you lose some.

I will give it to Stan, his haircuts are inexpensive as long as you like only one style. I asked for shorter on the sides and the top and I received the Marine Corp haircut. If you go make sure you tell him exactly what you want, down to the clipper size.
However he was quick and efficient and I just needed a haircut.