Haircut

There are two stories I still clearly remember from my time at PNC Bank 20 years ago.

I can laugh about both now.

I was not laughing then.

One is the LinkedIn story I've told here before.

The other involves a haircut.

I have cut my own hair since high school. I have not been to a barber in more than 30 years. For the most part, this has worked out fine. It has probably saved me a lot of money.

Except for one night during my first month at PNC.

I was fresh out of college, working in investment banking, and trying very hard to make a good first impression.

The job was intense. The hours were long. The pressure was constant.

And my boss was wound so tight that when he wanted to emphasize a point, he would literally chop the desk with his hand while spelling it out.

You could hear him cursing from three closed office doors away.

One weekend in that first month I decide to give myself a haircut.

I don't remember exactly what happened. I must have gotten distracted. I thought I had clipped the guide on. I had not.

I started in the back and immediately carved out a huge stripe.

I knew instantly.

I got down on my knees and wanted to cry.

Then I called my sister.

"What do I do?"

There was only one answer.

Keep going.

The next morning I walked into the office looking like I had enlisted overnight.

The first words out of my boss's mouth were:

"What did you do, join the army?"

I did not live that one down for a while.

At the time, I was mortified.

Now, I think about how much of early career pressure is just trying to look like you belong.

Trying not to make a mistake.

Trying not to be exposed.

Trying not to give anyone a reason to think you are in over your head.

But everyone is in over their head at some point.

Keep going. Show up the next day. Take the joke. Do the work.

And then when you do make a mistake, just remember next time to double-check the clipper guard.