A Poem: Autistic Haircut

“I have an appointment at 2, with Bernice”
“What is your phone number?” She asks.

The lady behind the counter finds it on her computer, and prints out a ticket.
“Bernice is ready. Just go on back” She says smiling. I wave back.

I always make appointments over the phone. There is less anxiety than if I came unannounced. Also, I can request the same person. She is an older woman who, at times seems weary and unhappy to be there. Yet, she does a good job, and we know each other.

Still, there is anxiety. I do not like to be touched.
Must remain calm. Think of cities that begin with the letter B.

Baltimore
Boston
Bardstown
Bakersfield

Bernice is ready. I watch as she shakes out the cloth covering that makes me feel like I am wearing a giant bib. She waves me over. I wave back.

Bowling Green,
Brooklyn
Boulder

“Get in that seat,”

I know that she will want to wet my hair. It sometimes scalds. Reluctantly I lean back against the sink, just wanting to get it over with. Once settled in, I close my eyes.

Burlington (the one in Vermont)
Burlington (the one in New York)

“No. . . I have to put the towel underneath” She spoke with a thick accent

“I guess I was rushing things” I replied, before going back to my geographical list.

Bismarck
Beaverton

I sit up. She tucks the towel around my neck. I tilt back, as her fingers are massaging my scalp.
Nice cool water. I try to drift off

Nothing. . . I traverse the country, looking for cities with a B
I focus on Texas. It is a big state, surely there must be something

“Ok, “she says.

I push myself out. She motions me to her barber chair, in the corner.
I know the routine. I take off my glasses, set them on the table and sit in the chair.
She puts a black apron on me. Then she begins cutting.

Gotta think of a B city . . . Biloxi. That is close to Texas
Beaumont. Yes, Beaumont, near the Louisiana border. That is in Texas
I smile. She doesn’t know why. I solved a problem. I found a B city in Texas.
I probe my mind, to think of any other

Brazos River. . . “Across the Brazos at Waco, Ride hard and you’ll get their by dawn” . I know that’s a line in a old western cowboy song. In my head, I place a squiggly line on an imaginary map of Texas:

The Brazos River.

She continues working. My eyes remain closed.

Boise
Berkeley

My mind has gone blank. .

I open my eyes. She is about done.
“Yes, The haircut looks fine”, I say as she hands me a mirror.
She asks about my eyelashes. I don’t quite hear her, but close my eyes anyway. Scissors run across the lashes, the fine hairs tickle. I stay calm telling myself that this’ll only take a moment.

Binghamton
Brooksville
Beverly Hills

She is finished. I stand up. The whisk broom sweeps away the loose hair on my back. I look at the big mirror in front of her chair. It looks neat and professional.

I grab the receipt and head to the lady behind the counter.