Today I went to get my hair cut. I don't like spending a lot of money on things I could technically do myself with a pair of scissors and a mirror, so I don't typically go to what you would call high end establishments.

You hear a lot of girls say they don't want to end up looking stupid, so they are willing to pay for the expertise. This is a good point, and well taken, but I think they have failed to consider that the money they spend on hair could very easily go toward comic books. Yes. I see you understand my point.

That said, everytime I walk into a supercuts or a style america I get the same feeling. I look around at all the generic styling products lining the wall, take in the two men getting the exact same half inch shave and wonder: have I stumbled into a barber shop? Do they even know how to cut a woman's hair here?

Then I get nervous and start looking around, trying to find any other female client in the building. If I don't see one, and this happens often, I contemplated striking a line through my name on the sign in sheet and booking it. But by that time, one of the stylists ( I use this term only because I can't think of a better one, they aren't, after all, barbers) has made eye contact and it is my turn.

At this point my palms are sweating. I have to explain the hair cut I want, dreading that blank expression that inevitably follows.

"You want layers? But you still want to wear a pony tail? This does not compute." I always expect them to over heat and explode at that point, and I would then be free to leave, but instead they pull out very sharp looking scissors and dig in.

This time was much more pleasant however. The woman who cut my hair knew exactly what I was talking about, she even told me the fancy hair dresser term for what I wanted done to my bangs: "angling."

So I am pretty satisfied. And all for under 15 bucks.