Superlative Cuts

I need a haircut, according to a friend. He's a trustworthy type, but he leaves me in a quandary. Where should I go?

Like most people, I'm a little insecure when it comes to haircuts. Back in my Home Town, it's easy. There's only one final destination for all the unwanted curls and locks in the neighborhood--the Home Town barber shop. "We know hair like Trump knows money," reads the sign on the awning.

"Same as always?" the barber will ask, same as always.

IT'S not so easy in Cambridge. Who will fill in for the Home Town barbers? Suave stylists or cut-rate cutters? Chatty barbers or antiseptic hair-removal experts?

The slew of choices is dizzying. The only conceivable decision is not to decide at all, but to delegate. Fortunately, a primly-coiffed associate is always ready to help.

"Go to Carol's," he whispers. "They don't cut hair; they style it." Visual confirmation of his words stands atop his head, a regiment of follicle-soldiers gelled in position.

He hands me a brochure explicating the Carol philosophy. "Discover the difference between a hamburger haircut and having an experienced hairstylist advise you," it says.

A hamburger haircut does sound rather unpleasant. But advice from a hairstylist sounds downright dangerous for a Home Towner like myself. Barbers I've met always talk weather and sports; they don't proffer advise. We Home Towners take our advice from the Home Town tarot readers.

And so the search continues.

PERHAPS the most fruitful method, I conclude, would be to approach the haircut as a financial endeavor and search for coupons. If there's anyone willing to cut their fares to cut my hair, they deserve some business.

Unless there's nine of them, all found within the pages of a recent coupon booklet.

And they all look so tempting. Two coupons depict neat-looking couples with neat-looking haircuts and ambiguous expressions on their faces. The rebate is prominently displayed: "$6 off, cut and style." There's no price listed, but it must be an expensive procedure if they can reduce it $6 for me. Back at home, that would make for a $2 cut.

Two similar coupons also catch the eye. Supercuts and Greatcuts, they call themselves. Impressive--almost nothing purchaseable in this world reaches these dizzying superlative peaks.

I read further down one of the advertisements. It seems I can use the discount at any of the store's locations--all 12 branches. What would they say back home if they knew I had patronized a branch for a haircut? Branches are for trees and for banks, they're likely to explain.

A friend comes to the rescue. "Why don't you quit all this vacillating and go traditional?" he suggests.

"You see," he continues, "Derek Bok goes to La Flamme, and Dukakis goes to Custom Barber Shop. So either way you can't lose." I envision chatting with Derek and Mike as we sit in our stools, being sheared like a trio of sheep.

It sounds a bit imbecilic, though, treating a haircut like a celebrity cruise.

Just like Home Town food, it seems that nothing can replace a Home Town cut. The search for an alternative has blossomed into an obsession; I can think of little else. I finally realize what must be done.

I'll let it grow out.