The guy was clearly obsessed with anime.
She patiently snipped his bowl cut, a style he should have left in his elementary school days. But, then again, that’s where he still was, obsessing about Pokemon and various other less popular fringe entertainment in a way that implied the entire store was hanging on his every expert word. It’s one thing to like a kid’s cartoon; nothing wrong with that. It’s another to sit in a Great Clips and preach – loudly – to an apathetic hairdresser about the crime of cutting down “700 Japanese episodes to 500.” She couldn’t care less how violent you claim the original version of the show is, and your description of a particular snake-like Pokemon being decapitated – and how one of your female friends keeps a picture of this to show people who make fun of her interest in the cartoon – did not help your case one bit.
All because the poor woman, in an unfortunate attempt to make conversation, quipped that thanks to her kids she never gets to watch much television other than Spongebob Squarepants.
It’s cute to ask the lower middle-aged, Hip-Looking-For-A-Mother stylist if she has the internet. ‘Cause not a lot of people do yet. But when she reacts in the affirmative, don’t expect her to remember the name of some random anime character that you want to dress up as when you go to sci-fi conventions. She already told you it would take a LOT of gel to spike up that horrid cut of yours. Don’t push it.
I’ll be the first to admit I’m a geek. A huge one. But this was just sad.