A few years ago I got a haircut at a home salon which advertised with a homemade sign planted at the side of the driveway.
I was sat in the chair and prepped. She started cutting. Within seconds she attempted small talk.
“So, you have a girlfriend?”
“No,” I said.
“Why not!” she said loudly. “Are you the gay?”
That is my friend Jodi‘s favorite story about me getting a haircut. But, in all fairness, it may be my only story about me getting a haircut.
(see also this story about a robot barber)