The haircut was dull. I asked them how long they could buzz hair and got it buzzed to that distance. Somehow, there’s still a divet in my hair despite it being easier to generate than a bowl cut. I don’t mind getting “the bad barber” as I don’t care enough to complain when my bangs are uneaven, my sideburns disappear against my wishes, the cowlick is accentuated or head turning into a follical ski slope.
The person next to me asked his barber how many shears he had, and the barber responded five. I asked my barber the same and he said twelve. Apparently, that’s the recommended maximum and the selection is the barber’s choice, much like the clubs of golf. I learned that a good pair runs about 50 dollars and cheaper ones “rips out hair rather than cutting it” and “can’t cut paper”. I asked to see the catalog and expected an LLBean shears catalog with attractive people leading interesting and well appointed lives through the usage of their scissors. I was disappointed when it turned out to be much more utilitarian containing shears, combs, razor equipment and barber-specific first aid equipment. Apparently, the black leather bag on many stylist workspaces is a first aid kit. I supposed I’d be sceptical of going under the hollow straight-edge if there were a massive first aid kit immediately behind me.
I also learned that the turn around time for shear sharpening can be up to five weeks. That’s ridiculous. My local sharpening shop can do a whole knife set over a weekend and I can get an embedded device battery done in about a week. Either there’s a reforging process involving aging in fine charred oak casks or there’s room to start a shears-oriented startup that will make the current fat-cats of scissors sharpening quake in fear.