Sticking Out Like a Sore Thumb

I'm gonna share a few photos with you, and I want to look at each one carefully to see if you notice a particular pattern. Go ahead. Look! I'll wait here...





You're not done yet. Keep looking. I'm still waiting.





Yes, there's a point to this.





Relax. You're almost finished.





Okay, no more pictures. I promise. What did you see?

In each photo there was one person or thing that stood out among all the others. When this occurs in my neck of the woods, you might just hear someone describe that one unique person or thing as "sticking out like a sore thumb." Familiar phrase?

Now let me ask you this... Have you ever felt like you stuck out like a sore thumb? Have you ever found yourself in a place or a situation where you felt like you stood out among all others? How did it make you feel? I was recently put in such a position and at the time it struck me as being the most embarrassing, hilarious event.

Oh, did you want me to share my experience? Sure... why not? Get ready to be entertained.

It was a Saturday afternoon and our boys needed haircuts in the worst way. No kidding. They were shaggy dogs and we'd put off the deed long enough. As luck would have it, my hubby had to go into work for a few hours, so I had to take the boys myself. That wasn't an issue, but the place we'd previously gone for haircuts is closed on Saturdays (I know... can you believe it?), therefore we had to seek out another barber/salon.

My husband told me about a place located relatively close to our house, so the boys and I decided to try it out. We found the salon, noticing the sign outside read "Kingdom Cuts." I'd never heard that name before, but it had a religious ring to it, which was cool with me.

I opened the door to the salon and the place was quite literally jam-packed with people, and all of them were African American men. (I'm getting tickled all over again as I tell the story. ☺) Every head turned and all eyes were on me and my two boys, all of us as white as can be, and clearly sticking out like sore thumbs. My immediate thought was, "I am in the wrong place. They can't cut my kids' hair here." And what was my husband thinking, telling me to come here in the first place? Only these things happen to me! I'm sure of it!

Now I realize that haircutters are trained to cut all different types of hair, but realistically, how often would you say that a haircutter in this particular establishment cuts the hair of shaggy, blond-headed boys? I figured not real often, so I turned around and started to leave, however, this man followed us out to the parking lot and asked us to return. I commented that they looked very crowded inside (And they were!), but he assured me they could fit us in.

Well... what was I to do? I mean, seriously? I didn't want to offend the man and appear to be snooty or racist. I will admit to you that I didn't really want to go inside, but it had everything to do with feeling out of place and in unfamiliar circumstances, nothing more. Well... and the fact that I didn't want anybody to jack up my kids' hair. I have to live with them, you know.

So... we went inside, sat down and waited. And waited. And waited. That's how crowded the place was. I made small talk with a couple of the patrons, who told me they were regulars. One guy said, "I saw you open the door and then turn around to leave." I said, "They looked really busy." He then said, "I figured it was because you thought you were in the wrong place." I said, "Well, that too." He and I had a good laugh over that.

Turns out those boys got the best haircuts they've had in a very long time. I couldn't believe it! When we left, I told the gentleman who cut their hair that he'd done a fabulous job, and he said, "We'll see you next time." Next time? Hmmm... Will I take them back there? I don't know.

I had to return to the salon later the same day, all because my oldest son had left his cell phone sitting in one of the chairs. When I walked in, all eyes were on me once again, and I said, "I was here earlier - " and they looked at me as if to say, "Yes, we remember you." I'm telling you, it was like an SNL skit. They had found my son's phone and returned it to me.

While I was definitely outside my comfort zone, and stuck out like a big ol' sore thumb in Kingdom Cuts, I actually enjoyed the experience and have laughed and laughed about it ever since. I'm considering taking the boys back there for future haircuts.