I wear glasses. I wear them for every waking minute of my life. I own contact lenses but only wear them when I am swimming or something similarly fraught with danger. Glasses are a big part of what I look like when I imagine myself. If you haven't figured it out yet, I'm a fan. Sure, there are downsides: they slide down my nose at the first hint of perspiration (this translates as anywhere from 20 to 100 times a day depending on the season), they fog up when I come in from the cold, they get smudged even though I'm sure I'm not touching them, and then there's the haircut problem.
The first thing that happens when I sit down in the spinny chair to get a haircut is that they put a superhero cape on me but backwards. That part is cool. Then they make me take off my glasses. This means that I never, ever get to see anything other than the Before and the After. So, I must trust the person wielding the scissors completely - I have no chance of knowing after I've told them what I want if they've gone rogue.
Today I discovered a new reason why I wish I wasn't a Spectacled-American on haircut day. I've been going to the same two people for haircuts for the last several years. One of them is a hairdresser with an in-house chair massage person who is 2 hours away from my house and the other is a no-frills barber a mere 2 minutes away from my house. I went to the barber today for probably the 10th time. Thanks to this no-glasses-during-haircuts thing, it took until the 10th visit to realize that my barber is missing an entire finger. Damn you, nearsightedness! All this time I had a mental image of what was transpiring around my head and it was only 90% correct.
I might have to add haircuts to the list of contact-lens-necessary activities. For all I know my other hairdresser might have an eye patch. Or only one ear. Or a mime performing in the background. ANYTHING could be happening during my haircuts.