While getting my hair cut this weekend, it occured to me that barber/hairstylist is probably the "regular" job (meaning, of course I don't want to give rectal exams to elephants) I'd least want to do. Sitting there, watching the woman cut my hair, tracking her every move with my darting little weaselly eyes, I was reminded of how much I hate it when someone watches me work at my job. But with cutting hair, not only is someone watching you the whole time, but it's the very person for whom you're doing the work, who has to live with the job you do every hour of every day for probably a few months. Of course, besides acting, where the job itself is performance, I can think of nothing more likely to drive me to shove a pair of scissors in the back of someone's neck inside of a week.
So, my hat's off to you, haircutters of the world. Not too short and keep the part where it is.
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