Okay, so. Earlier this week, Wednesday-ish, a guy comes into the shop, removes his ball cap, and says with a sigh only the bone crushingly oppressed can muster "My wife is MAKING me get a buzz cut and I was told to come see you". (Talking partly to me, partly to the shop at large).
T: Your wife is MAKING you get a buzz cut??
Chicken Shit Husband: Yes. I don't WANT one but she says I'll be cooler with it when I'm working & stuff.
Me: Okay, have a seat.
I get him settled and begin asking him the obligatory questions about overall length, etc.
CSH: I don't know exactly how short she wanted it.
Me: Well... Did she mention any numbers?? 2, 3, 4?? Anything to indicate what she wanted the end result to be??
CSH: She mentioned some numbers but I can't remember what they were.
Me: I tell you what. We'll start out longer and work our way shorter until YOU'RE happy. How about that??
I fire up the clipper, snap on a blade and get ready to cut. HE LEANED AWAY FROM THE CLIPPER!! I try again (because I'm nothing if not persistent) and he leaned away AGAIN!! What. The. Fuck?!?!
Me: Is there a problem??
CSH: I'm not sure I want to do this since I can't remember what my wife told me. I'm gonna go GET HER & bring her back here so she can just TELL you what she wants.
Me: Alrighty then. Whatever makes you more comfortable.
He leaves. Never to be heard from again.
UNTIL TODAY!! Oh yes folks!! HE CAME BACK!!
CSH: You remember me from earlier this week?? Yeah, well I lost the fight. I'm gonna sit here & wait for my wife. She's on her way here.
T: You're really gonna do it this time huh??
CSH: Yeah. I told her about the mix up with the numbers & she told me she'd make it easy on me & to just get a zero all over.
T: A ZERO on your WHOLE head??
(Note: A zero is SHORT. A zero is what most Military & Police get on the sides. The only way to get shorter is with a RAZOR)
Me: (After he sits around for about 20 minutes) Are you still wanting to wait for your wife or do you want to go ahead & get started since you have your instructions??
CSH: I guess we can get started.
I get him all situated. AGAIN. I fire up the clipper. AGAIN.
You know where this is going.
He chickened out. AGAIN!!
CSH: You know, I think you might be able to talk to my wife better about this. Maybe she won't argue with YOU. I'm just gonna go outside & smoke until she gets here.
Me: Of COURSE you are!!
He fled. Never to be heard from again.
Because if he comes back a third time, I'm gonna tell him to take himself, his hair, and his WIFE to fucking Supercuts.
Let THEM deal with that shit!!