Pampered Like a Man.

At 2:05pm my blog received its 5000th visitor.

I realized yesterday that I needed to get a haircut before my interview tomorrow. Of course the second I realized that I needed a haircut was when I also realized that it was too late to really get a haircut for this interview. Men's haircuts always look terrible for the first few days after you get them. It's nice to have all that tangled mess gone, but a haircut invariably brings out spots skin that haven't seen the sun since the last haircut. These have a tendency to lean to the side of unpleasant.

Nevertheless, I decided that it was better to look clean-cut than wild and woolly and so I headed out for a chop anyway.

When I first arrived in Toronto, I needed a haircut. I also knew that I didn't want to have to make a huge event of getting a haircut every month by having to drive halfway around the city to get one. I decided that I would go to the place that is right near my house, and forget trying to find a place that looks decent. You never know with haircuts. Most of the time you're throwing yourself at the mercy of a stranger who may or may not be having a good day.

My hair is a mess. It grows in every direction at the same time, with crazy-ass swirls and cowlicks. I have heard people groan halfway through cutting my hair. I always laugh nervously and say, "It's a mess isn't it? You never know what you're going to come across next."

Anyway, the place by my house does, I think, a good job. It's only $15, so that's reasonable. The problem is that they are closed on Mondays.

I knew that I couldn't wait, and so I decided to head over to Jack's Barber Shop at Yonge and St-Clair. Many moons ago, a friend recommended it, and I decided that I would go on his advice.

I think that I, first, must begin by telling you that I learned a little about why spas are so busy and make so much money. People love to feel pampered. They like to be given the royal treatment every now and then.

When I arrived at Jack's I immediately sat down and explained what I wanted. With that, Reno was off. There was idle chitchat, but nothing forced. I didn't really feel like talking and so he didn't talk at me. He just went about his work. Every now and then he would pass me my glasses so that I could keep tabs on how things were going at the back and on the sides. I didn't really care too much, but it was a nice gesture.

There were a lot of really nice touches. Before using the clippers, Reno sprayed them with some kind of nice smelling liquid. It was probably barbasol, but it smelled nice and eased my germ issues. At the end, he asked me how everything was and I asked him to take a little more off the front. I've known some barbers who get angry when you ask them to take more off, like a chef who has to recook an underdone steak. Reno was very gracious and made the necessary touch-ups with a smile.

Then is was time for my scalp massage. The head rubdown is a rare joy and while it feels good, it also has the added benefit of dispersing the little bits of hair.

After the haircut met with approval, Reno very nicely asked if I would like him to use the razor around the back. I insisted. Barbers use this great shaving cream that comes out of some kind of machine. The shaving cream comes out of the machine warm, so it opens up the pores and makes it easier to get a close shave. It smells good too.

Reno when over to his instruments and wielded a straight razor. Opening to about 14 inches he sprayed it down and set again to work. The blade was icy cold. This makes the metal contract giving a sharper and more precise shave. A few flicks and the work was done. There is something strangely humbling about being on the receiving end of a shave and probably has a lot to do with the fact that a stranger is standing above you with a straight razor. Anything can happen. The aftershave was then applied liberally.

So I was done. I smelled like my grandfather, but at the same time really felt like I had had a little taste of luxury. I shouldn't go on and on about a dumb haircut, but there are few things in life that men can really enjoy as men. Barbasol, straight razors, and aftershave are really manly. In the age of cellular phones, cyberbullying, and wikipedia, it's nice to take a time machine back to the 1950s and sit in a barbers chair and be pampered in all its manly glory.