Yesterday I got my ears lowered as my beloved childhood babysitter used to say when I got my hair cut. A funny little barber shop around the corner from my house called Rocket Barber Shop. All the guys cutting, using mostly electric trimmers, had slick hair and some sort of ink. Vintage knickknacks covered the walls, 50s music blared from the open hood of the half car that sat in the corner. I kinda felt like I was on the set of Grease.
Anyways, I was getting my hair cut and had a very clear idea of what I wanted. When my barber thought he was done, I made another request. And then another. While I felt a bit pushy, I truly just believe that I was asking for what I wanted. In the end, I left satisfied with my cut - a feeling I rarely have after a haircut. But the formula is simple, ask for what you want, communicate and those around you will hear your voice.