If I may be permitted to vent for a moment, I just received the worst treatment I’ve ever received from a barbershop–namely the The Haircut in the Stanford Shopping Center.
Once I sat in the barber’s chair everything was out of my control–my hair was not cut as I asked, my head was manhandled as though I were a fidgety three-year-old child, and at the end the protective drape was ripped off my body and an industrial-strength blowdrier was run over me to remove any loose hair.
They never even asked me if I was happy with my haircut. I had to remain seated and ask if I could look in a mirror to see the results!
I still have stray hairs prickling my skin as I type this.