***The Worst Haircut Ever!***

I'm in San Francisco for my Mastermind/Coaching meeting which starts tomorrow.

For the past two weeks, I have needed a haircut. Every day, I would look in the mirror and say, "I need to get a haircut." Then I would put it off. I would think, I can get it done tomorrow. This cycle kept on repeating itself.

I finally "decided" to get my haircut on Wednesday, first thing in the morning when I was in LA. Well, I missed my connecting flight the night before and therefore didn't have time to get my haircut the following day.

Today, of course I didn't have time to get the job done in LA by a hair stylist I really like because I was flying to San Francisco.

Now I am in SF, my mastermind meeting is tomorrow and I REALLY need to get my haircut. So off I go in search of a place to make it happen. Lo and behold, I find a "salon." I walk in and no one in the joint speaks a word of English. There is a giant poster on the wall with pictures of Mexican men with assorted hairstyles. I am told to select which style I would like. (This is not a good sign.)

Apprehensively, I sit in the chair and the stylist proceeds to take out the electric clippers and attack my head like a tiger attacks a pile of raw meat. Hair is flying off my head and dropping to the floor at an alarming rate. The hair on the back and sides of my head is SHORT. I glance back at the picture I said I wanted my hair to look like, wondering if I missed something or if my eyes were deceiving me. Nope. I had selected the right picture but my hair did not look anything like it.

Of course, my girlfriend, is sitting in the chair watching the mayhem and just laughing hysterically.

The "stylist" then proceeds to work on the front of my hair, which she leaves quite long. I try to explain that I want it up a little in the front, not a clump of long hair going straight down my forehead.

I keep looking back at the picture of the Mexican gentleman whose hairstyle I picked because the guy's hair in the mirror looking back at me, did not resemble the picture even remotely! I don't think it mattered what picture I selected, the stylist only knew one "style" and that is the one I was getting.

Mercifully, the deed is done. I pay and exit the premises quickly. Alexis, still laughing, says "You have the type of haircut young, teenage Latino boys have." Ha, ha, ha.

So what is the point of my tale? Simply this: Do not procrastinate. Do not keep putting things off thinking that you'll just do it tomorrow. Plan what you need to do and then do it at the time you planned to. Let my head be a reminder.

Adios amigo!

~Dave Dee

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