Hairdo

I went into an old timer's barber shop tonight. His hands were shaking hard. That's the first thing i noticed. Parkinson's, maybe. He's a Vietnam War veteran. I couldn't walk out on him once I'd gone in there. He barely touched my head with the clippers, but where they did make contact, they did significant damage. I've given myself better haircuts in the desert without a mirror. But we laughed and told each other stories and I just let him do his thing. He told me I had a terrible hairline and the worst possible kind of hair. A barber's dream, he said. You need to come in every week in order just to not look ridiculous. After, he had me pay him on Venmo - full price, which I did without blinking. He showed me the back of my head in a hand mirror. He didn't seem at all concerned about the path he'd shaved nearly half-way up the back of one side of my head. I wasn't either. We said goodbye and he told me that, if I didn't like the haircut, I could come back in a couple of days and he'd fix it for nothing. Then I walked a few blocks to another place and paid again for them to try to repair the damage.