Doctor Gets a Break at Fantastic Sam's

Yesterday, I abandoned the traditional salon haircut experience and instead took a trip to Fantastic Sam's. This was not an original idea, I soon learned, as there were four people waiting when I arrived. All of them were concentrated on their phones, so I adopted the When In Rome pose and extracted my phone, pretending that I had pressing business at hand. (I did in fact have business, just none of it pressing.)

As I was minding my business, a 20-something kid walked in with a big, bushy head of hair and took the empty seat next to me. He wore a t-shirt that said, "Green is Uberkewl." He was listening to his iPhone and noodling around with it. I didn't know that people who looked like him really ever got their hair cut, so he was a bit of an anomaly.

Once I got in the stylist's chair, the anomalous guy ended up in the chair next to me. He immediately started giving directions to his stylist. He wanted his head shaved, "a number one." When the stylist showed some trepidation, the guy continued, "I just went through a break up. She always liked my hair long, so I want to shave it." The stylist asked repeatedly if that's what he wanted (he really had a lot of hair, I'm telling you), and he was adamant. I heard the buzz of the razor, and out of the corner of my eye, I watched as his extremely full head of hair fell to the floor in clumps.

"I need a fresh start," the young man continued. "I believe in clean break ups..." and he proceeded to share a laundry list of break up stories, but this one being the worst. "Besides," he added, "I don't have time for this. I'm a doctor. I work 70-80 hours a week."

A doctor? Did he just say "doctor"? Could this be true? And what if it was? Didn't doctors have the right to 1) wear "Green is Uberkewl" t-shirts, 2) have bushy hair, and 3) get heart-broken, and 4) shave their heads? Why do I assume that because someone is a medical professional they have an obligation to be a more "well-adjusted" person than anyone else, kind of a perpetual professional? Or just plain special?

More to the point: didn't this young man deserve my sympathy rather than my incredulity? More than my judgment?

The Head-Shaven Young Man reminded me to examine my stereotypes of others, as I am chock full. I know, though, that the very mechanism that causes judgment of others is also the one that judges the self. Maybe if I lighten up on the doctor in his quest to make a clean break, I can lighten up on myself when I need a break.

That is, without shaving my head.