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| - Okay, I'm fully aware that every.other.review for this place is great. That's why *I* went there. And rating something like a barber shop is really somewhat inaccurate, because you're actually rating the PERSON who cut your hair, not the actual shop. With that in mind, I'll tell my story...you make the call.
I arrived and Emily greeted me very pleasantly from the register. The place was obviously trying hard to be "hip"...dark paint scheme, musical crap-on-the-wall decorating scheme. Emily took my coat, offered libations and led me to her chair. We had a discussion about what I was looking for. Look at my profile pic. It's not that challenging. In fact, if my wife was a bit more adventurous, I'd seriously consider asking her to just do me with my home clippers.
Emily asks me if I prefer clipper or scissor-cut. I told her it was completely up to her. I'm a contractor; I wouldn't want you telling me which tools to use to fix your house's problem. Over the years, barbers have done both and combinations of either. I truly can't tell the difference. Since Emily seemed interested, and since, honestly, I was hoping we were forging a new relationship that would last, I shared that with the best cut I'd ever had, the girl said she used "thinning shears" on my sides; that haircut not only looked good, it looked good for a long time. And so we began.
25 minutes later, Emily has been working on the same basic part of my hair for the entire time. Kinda the back of the sides. She'd manipulate what felt like 4 hairs with a comb and her hand for maybe 3-4 seconds, then fumble her scissors into place on her fingers and make the teeniest tiniest *snip*, like she was using the last 1/4" of the scissors. For 25 minutes. My neck was starting to ache from keeping my head steady.
During this time the owner (Brian) was carrying on a music discussion with two girls working in another chair. He decides to demonstrate his current opinion by putting a song on the sound system...Tony Bennett and Etta James. Hey, no problem - he owns the place, he can play what he wants, and I like that stuff anyway. But then the music transitions into something like banging pipes and pans and finally devolves down to some weird duet of a rapper with Alvin (of the Chipmunks). Again, it's Brian's place but it's certainly not my cup of tea. I mean, you're a customer-service business; you've gotta know that if you crank up some way off-mainstream music, you can't please everyone. Maybe not the best business strategy, but I really wouldn't have cared if the rest of the experience had been going well...
At the 25 minute mark I lean into Emily with a "Pssst", and when she pauses with her teensy tiny back-of-my-head snipping say, "Emily, I've had relationships that lasted less time than this cut. It's been 25 minutes and I really don't want to be rude, but what.are.you.doing.back.there?" She says she's been working to blend the sides like I had mentioned and was just fixing to move forward. I subside into silence (we'd quit talking 5 minutes into the haircut...she didn't seem all that interested in yacking). She grabs shears and proceeds to go over the exact same places she just spent the last 25 minutes working with scissors. Then back to the scissors for some more tiny snipping around my ears. Another 10 minutes down.
Between the music(?), holding my head steady for more than half an hour, and the fear that Emily must be charging by the hour, it's all I can do not to rip off the smock and run. Finally, Emily steps back and makes noises that she'd like some input. Now, I wear glasses and I'm blind without them, so this is the first time I take a look. And truthfully, while the sides of my head have been taken down some, I realize that a.) Emily thinks she's basically done, and b.) she hasn't even touched the top of my head!
I mentioned this to Emily and she says, "Well, you said you wanted your hair finger-length and it already looks pretty close to that." She then says, "Well, the front looks a little long." Back to the tiny snipping. At this point I politely ask if I could make a phone call; my wife was working late that night and I was to make dinner. I've been there for 35 minutes; no way I'm gonna beat her home now. Phone call done, back to snipping.
At the 45 minute mark, Emily steps back and indicates she's happy. As soon as the smock's off I toss her a credit card and dive for my coat. She unsubtly points out her iPod's payment app's helpful tip function, which I decline. We conclude our business and I RUN for my car, twenty dollars lighter.
When I get home I see that my sideburns are still shaggy AND uneven so I fix them myself. My hair looks about the same as when I walked in, besides the sides. I'll be paying for another haircut 2 weeks from now, I'm sure.
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