My hair: Lost in translation. Literally.

If you live in a multi-cultural neighborhood, it is really a good idea to pick up at least an effective smattering of the lingua franca...  in this case, Spanish. And you really should know when that sweet-faced young Latina smiles and says "Short, Si?" While pointing at what turns out to be the No. 1 setting on her clippers...  holding up your index finger and thumb one and a half inch apart means nothing, if you also gallantly answer, "Er, Si! Porforvor. "
After the initial buzzzzz, all is lost. Really. You just opted for a "high-and-tight" haircut, mi amigo.
And chagrined, as well as decidedly chilly from the ears up, you still pay the $10, and dutifully add a nice tip.
Those brown eyes, raven hair and the trilling "Gracias," make you forget your hairless plunge... until you see yourself in the glass exit door's reflection.
Then just croak, "Ohhhh, Lord!" And pull down your cap and slink home.
Hair grows back. Right?
RIGHT?!?