In the dark

It's ironic that, in the end, it was a blackout that did for me. A blackout, and a pathological inability to get a haircut until my hair is way beyond the point that it needs to be cut.

My job is to support investment in energy technologies. It's what I do, my job, when I'm at work. Electricity is very much part of what we look to drive innovation in. Particularly so-called 'Smart' technologies which mean that we can better match supply with demand, without having to worry (as much) about costly network upgrades and backup systems.

I needed a haircut. The fact that the power had failed across an entire city block was neither here nor there. The barber's door was unlocked. I'd used him in the past. He knew my head, or my scalp, at least. He looked doubtful, but the light was still good, and his clippers were in the stand. Charged. No need for working mains electricity. We could do this.

F. & J. went first. They were as much in need of a cut as I was, and school starts again on Monday. The place on Hoxton Street is friendly and tolerant of squirming children, but they always come out looking like Jim Carey from Dumb and Dumber. Whereas Mr X (who will soon be opening a new place called on Shoreditch High St) does an excellent cut, and is equally tolerant of children.

Mr X ploughed on. The boys were done. He raised an eyebrow, but I was determined. So he started.

It's a job of work, my hair, when it's at its peak. Thick and luxurious, if I saw so myself. The clippers were doing sterling work, but I could sense a change in tone. A deepening. Lower notes. Mr X struggling hard and harder to shift the thatch. I began to perspire. Surely, I though, they would make it through. Surely.

But at around the halfway mark they gave up entirely. Mr X shrugged. What could he do? He thinned the top out and trimmed the most egregious ear and nose hairs.

I didn't even have a hat to hide my half cut head. I just pulled my fleece up and fled in red faced shame. No idea how I made it home.

Now I'm just going to have to sit here, in the dark, and wait for it to grow out.

See you in two months.