Getting a haircuts

I just returned from getting a haircut from the local Supercuts.

I walk in and this friendly middle-aged Ecuadorian lady greets me with, "Hello! Do you want haircuts today?". I reply, "Yes please, just one though". "Haha, funny guy. One haircuts for you".

I put my name on the list and sit down to wait my turn. There's a family there to get haircuts for their two kids; a boy and a girl. The girl seems to mentally challenged (or is it "special" now?) and needs to be held down in the chair by the mother while the female barber trims her hair.

The aforementioned Ecuadorian (I know she is one because she told me on a previous visit) gets done with the boy and asks me to take the chair. As usual, I mutter, "Number 4 on the sides and scissors on top". She gets started.

I'm not very chatty when getting a haircut despite the valiant attempts at conversation from barbers. I just don't feel like adding to their distraction when their scissors are snipping close to my ears. She finishes up the right side of my head and then asks me, "You wanted a number 3 right?". WHAT?

Number 3 is shorter than number 4 and I didn't want it that short. I tell her, "No! I wanted a number 4". She coolly says, "OK" and proceeds to switch the thingy on the thingy to a number 4 and starts to clip the left side.

At this time I'm contemplating the new look that is clearly going to become the vogue at my office - different length haircuts on different sides of my head. I shake it off and tell her as calmly as I can, "Can you please make it a 3 all around?".

"OK" she says, and that was the end of the adventure. Thankfully.