Neither Hair nor There : The Story of a Man and
the Worst Mistake of his Life... Hopefully
It was January 16, what seemed to be a normal Friday. I had just returned from doing my shopping for Shabbos in town and collecting my e-mail. There was still a little less than an hour remaining until Shabbos. I had decided that I was going to give myself a haircut. Why? There is somewhat of a logical reason. I usually try to adhere to a certain haircut schedule whereby each haircut lasts two months. I get a haircut Erev Rosh HaShana as recommended by the Shulchan Aruch. Then I get one at the beginning of Kislev and then at the beginning of Shevat and then I get one right before Pesach, then right before Shavuos and then after Tisha B'Av and then again before Rosh HaShana. It is actually quite an efficient system. However, the haircut that I got at the beginning of Kislev was not as short as usual and was not going to last until Shevat so I decided that I would give myself a little trim. Nevertheless, (especially looking back,) it was not a very smart decision. In fact, on this day many very stupid mistakes, none of which should be made by any rational human being, were all made by me in a very short span of time as I will explain.
As I reached the dorm my roommate was leaving so I quickly asked him for permission to use his trimming machine. He said yes. Before I go on I would like to remind everybody that I am by no means a trained professional and therefore, you should by no means even think of trying this at home. Anyway, I proceeded to the room, got the machine out of the drawer, sat down and began to trim, without a mirror. That would be mistake number two. After a while, I realized that the shaver was not doing anything. I later found out that what I was using a beard trimmer which has little hope of taking off any significant amount of head hair. That's mistake number three. I went to the room next door to get a real trimming machine. I used a No. 4 clip on the back and sides and with the grain on the top. When I was done, people were telling me that it looked fine but when I looked in the mirror I found that there was too much of a differentiation between the top and sides and I decided to take a little more off the top. Since I used a 4 on the sides I figured a 5 would be good for the top. It was now getting closer to Shabbos. I quickly ran back to other room, fished through the drawer and found a No. 5 and came back to my room.
As I fit the clip onto the shaver I realized that it looked quite a bit smaller than it should have been, smaller than the four in fact. However, I was too much in a rush for my brain to absorb the fact and react accordingly. It is in here that the lesson of this entire episode lies. Had it not been so close to Shabbos, I surely would have had the presence of mind to realize the grievous mistake that I was about to make, (mistake number four if you're still counting). However, since I left this job for so close to Shabbos, I failed to realize what I was doing. The lesson, therefore, is to always leave as much time before Shabbos as possible for any important chores. I didn't, and I paid the price.
I went about my business using this "No. 5" and shaving the top of my head. As the clumps of hair fell into the garbage bin in front of me, I noticed that they were kind of big but again, it did not phase me. I finally decided that I was done. I felt my head and it really didn't feel that strange. As I got up and proceeded to the bathroom to see how it looked, a couple of friends were entering the room, "Bulka, what the heck did you to your hair?!" I didn't think anything was wrong. Everything felt fine to me. But as I entered the bathroom and saw my reflection in the mirror, I nearly fainted. I had scalped myself. I looked like a Navy drill sergeant. The ratio of side hair to top hair made me look like I was 40 years old. I was scrambling trying to think of what to do but there was really nothing to be done. The mistake I had made was that the No. 5 clip is a tapering instrument that gets shorter from right to left. That was what I should have realized as I placed the clip on the shaver. But I didn't, and it was too late now. But my misery was not yet over with. Someone pointed out that I had left one big clump of hair untouched in the front of my head. I quickly ran back to my room, grabbed the shaver and buzzed it off. But as I looked at the shaver, I realized that I had taken the clip off. I had just made myself a nice big bald spot in the front of my head. This was my fifth and final mistake but probably the worst of them all.
It was already late and I had to quickly take a shower and get ready for Shabbos. There was no doubt that my hat was staying on all Shabbos. But by the looks on people's faces, I realized that the top was not my only problem. I had also used the infamous No. 5 partially on my sides. They were left in total uneven disarray. But there was nothing to be done about it now. I had to wait it out until the end of Shabbos. I spent most of that Shabbos in seclusion in my room. I was too embarrassed to leave. Finally Shabbos was out and my chavrusa fixed my sides and now I was at least semi-presentable, at least from the sides.
The dilemma with which I was now faced was how to go about presenting myself during the week. I had three choices and had to choose which one would stand out the least. One choice was to just go with a regular yamuke and leave my head exposed. That was obviously the last thing I wanted to do. Aside from being tremendously cold, I wouldn't be able to bear the embarrassment. I could have worn my hat all day but during the week that looks very strange. I decided to borrow a very large yamuke from a friend, you know, the kind that if not for the fact that they were made of velvet, you could eat your cereal in it in the morning. This covered up all the embarrassing spots but it still looked quite odd and I was given strange looks my many people over the week. When I would actually discuss the issue with anyone they would say "Oh, come on, it can't be that bad that you look better in that yamuke." I would then give them a quick peak of what was underneath and their opinion would quickly change.
I decided that I would need this ridiculous head covering only for the first week and then I would be able to uncover it. I would have one more embarrassing experience before the episode was done. At the end of one week, I was invited to my cousins' house for the Friday night meal. My plan was to avoid any embarrassment and keep my hat on the entire time. Just my luck, it happened to be very hot in the room that night. It wasn't long before both my cousin and the other guest had their hat and jacket off and I was left sitting there looking very strange with my hat and jacket still on. I thought I was going to get away with it. I almost did. Out of nowhere their spunky, and when I say spunky I mean spunky 10-year-old daughter, Simcha, pipes up and asks me why I haven't taken off my hat. I just shrugged my shoulders and tried to avoid the question but she wouldn't give up. I found out only weeks later that she knew about the haircut all along and was just trying to get me to take off my hat but at the time I thought she was being sincere. By the time she started complaining to her mother that I "wasn't feeling at home" I knew that there was no escape and that I was going to have eventually reveal my dreadful head of fuzz. I knew that my cousins were not the type to have any mercy, Simcha perhaps being the worst of them. I decided to try to salvage my situation. I called Simcha over and told her quietly that I had got a really a bad haircut and would only take off my hat if she promised to keep her mouth shut. Surprisingly enough, she listened. I still got it from the rest of them... for the next month.
By now, all the embarrassments have passed and I look rather normal. I have not had to use a comb for almost 2 months. I haven't needed a real haircut for that long either. But nevertheless, the lesson to be learned remains clear. Always allot as much time as possible before Shabbos for all your important needs or you might end up with something worse than just a bad hair day - or a bad hair month.
