So, I got my hair cut at a barber shop and it was awesome. To clarify, Arrow is a not straight-up barber shop, options are offered for all sexes. But the vibe definitely leans toward the masculine sex. It’s a modern barbershop complete with a complimentary beer and straight razor shaves. Not the place you’d envision me (I have long, wild, thick curly hair and I’m scared to death of hair cuts because I just know they are going to screw it up like that one time my mom took me to Fantastic Sam’s when I was a kid) voluntarily booking an appointment.

What had happened was, I booked an appointment for Garett at Arrow and tagged along because I’m not only crazy about my hair, I’m also crazy about his. Probably because the last time I took it upon myself to organize a hair cut for him it was a bit traumatic for the both of us. And this time actually started off a bit rocky too.

The first go round, we arrived to find out the appointment was actually the next night. I booked the appointment that day, and I still stand by the fact that the computer said it was indeed that day. I might have been on the verge of a massive argument with the receptionist, but the voice of reason Garett questioned if I really wanted to make a scene at the establishment that would soon be in charge of his hair. Yeah, probably not. So I conceded the point and we went to the ABC store for some scotch. I am so easily appeased.

The next night was game on for the hair cut. To be honest, I was a little intimidated by the hipster environment. Imagine my surprise when I proceeded to hit it off with the receptionist. It helped that he was an enthusiast contributor to the conversation that centered around my hair woes. And he was happy to provide a recommendation with a stylist at Arrow.

When I realized that the stylist he recommended worked at the location right around the corner from my office, it was a done deal. I’d nip out of the office during lunch for my haircut and be all ready for the impending holiday photo opps. The night before the big event, I dreamed of hair disasters. Before I knew it, the time had come. I was used to a salon full of women populated with gossip and hair spray. This was a room full of men drinking beer and getting their hair buzzed. Errrrr, what was I getting myself into?

Since I had to go back to work I couldn’t even attempt to fit in by drinking a beer. Soon enough I was in the chair and McKenna was bravely struggling through my dreaded locks. Unphased she noted that a few inches of dead and frizzy hair needed to come off and she got to the task at hand. As she snipped away, we chatted and I relaxed. Hey, so what if I was the only girl here? The guys around me didn’t seem to care I’d intruded.

Before I knew it, she announced she was done. I’d survived. It was quick, inexpensive and the best haircut I’ve had in a long time. Sometimes you gotta try something different. The only thing I’d do differently is go after work and have a beer…