Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

In India, I would frequent sidewalk stalls or more refined establishments for the purposes of trimming my hair. I would also get a shave at the barbershop, and occasionally indulge in a head massage or facial treatment. I would vigilantly note whether the barber used a new razor blade to minimize my chance of infection. In Canada, I must perform the barberly duties myself due to my comparatively low standard of living. My previous duties were limited to seating myself in front of the barber and being aware of safety issues. They have now multiplied to include the actual act of pogonotrophy itself and the ensuing cleanup.

After many hours of blood, sweat, and hairs, I have become somewhat of an expert at cultivating the ARNABeard and in preventing the reunification of the ARNABrow. I pay carefeul attention to the follicles on my face, but I sever all emotional attachment to them the moment they are no longer attached to my bodice. I often neglect the post-trim environmental maintenance which includes tasks such as washing and cleaning all the tools of the trade - the disposable razor for a quick shave, the electric razor for more advances styling, and the miniature sewing scissors for shaping. The gathering of the fur that has fallen to the ground like rain from the heavens is not a task I look forward to either. Some of the hair escapes my attention and makes their way into the pipe and sewage system of my home. On one occasion, all the pipes had become clogged and were in danger of exploding due to the vast deposits of my threadlike fibre. A professional plumber had to be called in during this time of crisis to handle the hairy situation.