Note: for nearly 20 years, one woman named Carla has cut my hair. Needless to say, this next story is an adventure.

Last month, I need a haircut so I asked some friends here where to go. They suggested a place and all went well. They did tell me that most of the barbers are Turkish and they can be stylish and somewhat excessive in their hair care. I did not experience this issue last month.

Today is a new day.

As I walk out the door to go back to the same place to get a haircut, Angela simply says, “I hope you enjoy your haircut.” I respond, “That is odd to say. Why would I enjoy a haircut? I just hope all goes well.” This, my friends, is called foreshadowing. My wife might be a prophetess.

I walk into the empty place to be greeted by a woman. She tells me that her colleague will be with me shortly and to have a seat. She proceeds to speak in Turkish to her colleague who is in another room.  There is no one in this place so I wait. I wait about 5 minutes before I see the man who is coming to cut my hair appear. He dusts his hands off from apparently eating and then wipes his mouth with his hand. I think, “I hope that he washes his hands before cutting my hair.” This would be the least of my worries but definitely the first warning.

He motions for me to sit down. I ask his name which he reluctantly gives me in his broken English. I tell him that I want him to use the 12 guard on the clippers. He says maybe the 9 guard is better. Second warning that things might not go well.

All is going well with the first set of clippers. He then proceeds to grab a different, smaller pair of clippers for more detail work. No worries. Just trimming up around the ears and back of the neck.

At this point, he grabs a third pair of clippers. Not sure why. Before he can actually use them, his phone rings. He just pauses. Takes the phone out of his pocket and talks to whomever. Says his sorry and back to work with the third pair of clippers on the back of my neck. Seems excessive but no harm so far.

Oh, boys and girls, now the fun begins just when you thought it was over.

I seem him pick up a foot long thin metal rod with what appears to be a white Q-tip like ending. The white is somewhat black in areas. My first thought, “he is going to try to clean my ears with this nasty thing.”

But he pours a clear liquid on the end. I think, “Oh, it is alcohol or cologne that he is going to rub on my neck.” Not my preference but maybe I will smell like flowery goodness.

He moves back so that I cannot see him without having to strain my neck. He is doing something behind me but I cannot tell exactly. I then notice that he place a lighter on the table next to me.

What is happening?!?!

He just lit this thin medal rod with a quasi-white Q-tip ending. I have a flame, yes a flame, next to my face!

In my fear and utter shock, I let this man place this flame by my face. Once again, it is a flame next to my right ear. He burns off some hair apparently. He then puts the flame across my face to burn hair off my left ear.

It is not flowery goodness that I smell but burnt hair. My burnt hair.

What just happened?!?! How did this happen?

He blows out the flame. I still cannot believe that I am typing the word: flame.

We are still not finished.

He grabs scissors now. What does he use scissors for? To trim my apparently bushy eyebrows. This dude is trimming my eyebrows.

I am now ready to go. I tell him thanks in that universal tone that says, “Enough is enough.”

Before letting me out of the chair, he reaches for clippers #2 that he used for detail work. He looks at my mustache. So I naturally think that he is going to trim my mustache even though I already asked him not to do it.

Not the mustache. Nope. He shoves clippers #2 in my nose! In. My. Nose.

The same clippers he used to trim around my ears and the back of my neck. Immediately, I think, “Gross!” My thoughts move to, “Wait. If he uses these clippers on my neck AND in my nose, he probably does this for other people. I now have someone’s boogers on my neck and someone is now going to have my boogers on their neck. Gross!”

We have officially moved beyond “stylish and somewhat excessive in hair care.”

Lesson learned from A Turkish Haircut: flexibility.

*For a video example of Traditional Turkish Singeing, click here.*