The Anxiety, The Maria and The Haircut

For those of you that know me, you are well aware of my dislike of strangers. For those of you that don't know me, I get really weird around people I don't know. I get an abnormal amount of anxiety when a person I don't know too well gets too close and/or touches me. Some call it shyness, but I like to think its one notch higher, looming around mental case-ness.

With that said, getting a haircut is sometimes a painful task for me. Not to the point where I get an anxiety attack, but its more like an annoyed feeling of being forced to allow a stranger to touch me and be close, all while trying to achieve small talk.

Today I decided, upon much thought, that it was time for me to get a haircut. I've always gone to SuperCuts so to keep with the tradition, I went to a SuperCuts. There wasn't a long wait, and before I knew it Maria called my name.

As I approached her, I'm noticed that she's was giving me a funny look. I understand that eye contact is important, but she had an excited look, like I was someone famous, or someone she knew. As I got closer I said hello and turned to look at where I was going to sit and in the reflection I can see that she's still staring at me. Just something strange about it, but I thought its just me being weird again.

Maria began to cut my hair. Suddenly I felt like I was being questioned by the police. She's asking everything about me, which is normal I guess. She asked me if I was working this weekend and if I was going to the Fair. I wasn't even aware there was a fair going on. Maria wanted to know if I've ever been to one and I told her maybe when I was a kid. Now this is when things got confusing because of the way she said it. She then asked me if I wanted to go. Now I'm pretty sure she was being hypothetical, but after asking me if I worked this weekend, it felt like she was asking me if I wanted to go with her. But I wasn't sure. I just found it strange. I told her I was too busy and that ended that.

In between the fair conversation, 40-year-old Maria kept asking me if she was pulling on my hair too hard. I kept telling her that she was fine and she wasn't tugging. Yet, she asked three times. This is an excerpt of how the screenplay would read on her third time:

Maria: Am I pulling on your hair?
Jason: No, you're fine.

Maria continues to cut Jason's hair.

Maria: Do you want me to pull your hair? (pause) Just kidding!

Jason begins to laugh awkwardly because he doesn't know how to respond.

Oh Maria. I just wanted a haircut. If I wanted to flirt with a disgusting cougar I would have have gone to a dive bar and had seven shots of tequila. Thanks for feeding my anxiety.