I ran to Great Clips yesterday for a haircut. After checking in on the app, of course. Good thing too, ‘cuz when I walked in, it was standing room only. For me, at least; everyone else had a seat.
Here’s what bugged me: there were seven chairs in the lobby and six people waiting for haircuts. One of them had turned the last empty chair into his own personal coat rack. No big deal as long as somebody isn’t standing awkwardly in the tiny lobby, half-blocking the door, but there was.
Me! I was the awkward stander! It was this guy!!
Riddle me this: if you had been in that position, wouldn’t you have removed your coat from the chair so I could sit down? Had the tables been turned, I would have done so. But this guy just sat there, either oblivious or stubborn, while I had to scoot over a couple of times, half-turning my body and trying not to knock over the shelf of moisturizing shampoos and boosting creams to let people enter or exit.
Not gonna lie: murder crossed my mind. But there were too many witnesses, so I settled for an angry glare instead. I suppose I got the last laugh in the end, because they called my name next and his sorry ass was still waiting.
I hope he waited there for hours. Which, in chatting with the stylist, I learned is totally a thing. She said it’s insanely busy during the weekends, and many a time somebody will walk in, discover they’re 37th in line and there’s a two-hour wait, and they’ll plop down on a chair anyway. I’m sorry, but are these people out of their minds?! Weekends are way too precious to waste 120 minutes thumbing through a tattered two-year-old issue of Mademoiselle in a crowded lobby for the sole pleasure of getting a haircut. I’d grow a goddamn ponytail before subjecting myself to that nonsense.
Besides, like I said, THERE’S AN APP FOR THAT. It’s no more difficult than making a dinner reservation, except instead of prime rib or pasta you’re going to get a chin-length bob or butterfly layers. Maybe a polished shag if it’s a special occasion and you’re in the mood to splurge.
I’ve gradually been rereading my blog from the beginning. This is no small undertaking; I’ve been blogging so long, I’ve got 14 years worth of posts to catch up on! I’m only doing this when I have a few minutes to spare and nothing else going on, so it’s probably going to take me another three years just to catch up to the present, by which point it will be the past, so tack on another couple of years for good measure. Case in point: I’m only up to spring 2011.
What a year that was, by the way. My whole life changed. Hello, Tara.
In any case, the blog is like a time capsule. This post I read earlier today, for instance, mentions Foursquare, Angry Birds, iPods, and DVRs. (Not to mention the Dewey Decimal System and Julius Caesar. The wayback machine was in overdrive here.) There have been many references to Charlie Sheen and Groupon and “How I Met Your Mother” and, well – things that aren’t really things anymore. People whose 15 minutes of fame ended seven hours ago.
If I’d started my blog a couple of decades earlier, I’d probably be reading about “Wheel of Fortune,” Sally Ride, heavy metal suicide, foreign debts, homeless vets, AIDS, crack, Bernie Goetz, hypodermics on the shore, China under martial law, rock and roller, cola wars. I can’t take it anymore!
(Sorry. Billy Joel on the brain.)
But what strikes me most is how virtually every regular reader from that time period has dropped off the face of the earth. Wherefore art thou, Catherine and Kathryn? How ’bout Friscolex and PlaneJaner and Jevcat? Where’d you disappear to, Tori and Flyinggma, Theresa and Patti? Clicking on their links, I see their most recent updates were from 2012 or 2014. One person made it as far as 2020. I guess not everyone has the stomach for long-term blogging.
Like my wife, for instance.
Not every disappearance is a mystery. Some, like The Edmonton Tourist, I follow on social media. Others have transcended the blogosphere and become real-life friends, like Justin the Realtor’s sister, Jess. And a few hardy souls have hung in there. Carl D’Agostino was commenting on my posts when I was a single, unemployed wannabe writer sharing custody of two young kids in a cramped townhouse in the Pacific Northwest – and is still reading and blogging today. That’s dedication, Carl. Gold star for you!
You too, Bytes from the ‘Burbs and aka Gringita.
It’s weird to think that a decade from now, I may look back on this post and wonder whatever became of a bunch of you. I hope that’s not the case, but people disappear, and not in an “I’ve been abducted!” way. (Well, sometimes in an “I’ve been abducted!” way.) I get it.
Man, I never realized I had such a raging case of separation anxiety.
Should I have murdered the Great Clips chair-hogger? How long have you been blogging – and do you expect to retire someday?
Mark My Words 
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