I hate having my hair cut. I've been trimmed in Tokyo, sheared in Sheffield, and cropped in Kraków: it doesn't matter where I am, I find the experience alarming. There's something deeply unsettling about a complete stranger radically altering your appearance while you sit in a strangulating bib in a public place. I'd rather have my teeth extracted by a mechanic. I suspect most men feel like this, but there is no acceptable way of bringing the subject up over a pint so I can't be sure.