Look at you, so brave getting a haircut from a real barber! What a self-care win for you! Let’s just get a few things straight—yes, when you opened the door you did push it open too hard, yes, everyone was startled by it, and yes, everyone currently thinking to themselves “Who is this meatball and why are they here?”
You are not on their level, and you know it.
Oh isn’t that nice, the man at the front is asking if you want anything to drink? If you say yes, who the hell do you think you are? Everyone will think “Look at this entitled dick demanding seltzer water at the barbershop like some kind of power-mad god-king.” Then again, What kind of message does saying “no thanks” send? Oh, so you think you’re too good for barbershop beverages? Oh my god you still haven’t answered? Better pick one quick! Don’t worry, either way, that guy is going to make fun of you to his friends later.
Went with the water huh? You’re such a dick. The barber is ready for you.
The cape is slightly too tight, which the barber is doing on purpose because he hates you. Any respect he may have had for you will vanish after you show him your reference for a haircut, which is, God help us, a picture of Gene Ween from Ween. That’s odd, that is odd behavior. Your barber thinks you’re a weird virgin.
Now for the big question: do you try to make conversation? If you do, holy shit, does everything have to be about you? This man doesn’t want to hear about your life, or God forbid, be forced to divulge information about his. Ever heard of emotional labor, idiot? So you stay silent. And now your barber thinks you’re an antisocial weirdo, and he’s probably going to call National Security the moment you leave.
This haircut is really shitty. It’s way too short, and you know for a fact it’s going to dry all weird the second you wash it. He probably fucked it up on purpose, which, to be fair, you absolutely deserve. He asks you if you like it, and, like a spineless coward, you nod. “Yeah, man. Great.”