I am tired of being asked to fill out a survey every time I spend a little money, even for a Snickers bar.

Well, it hasn't gotten that bad, but it might. Buy just about anything, and within a minute, the retailer will send an email, asking you to rate their service.

“How did we do?” “Please give us five stars!” “Now fill out this survey about your shopping experience.”

I have had the same barber since I was 21. He is still moving along at a fast clip. Not once has he hung up his scissors and said, “David, how did I do? Rate me on a scale of 1 to 10. Will you return sometime during the next month? Will you kindly recommend me to your friends?'

I'll call him Jimmy, because his name is Jimmy. I believe he knows that I think he does a good job, because I've only let two other people do my 'do since 1979. There is no need for a after-cut survey.

The first time my haircut was Jimmy-free, it was early in our relationship, and Jimmy was out of town. I decided to try a barber in a fancy downtown hotel. This guy was far more expensive than Jimmy because most of his customers were bankers, lawyers, and doctors.

This barber (I'll call him Floyd since that was Andy Griffith's barber) was not good at small talk. He asked me my age, and I said 22. He stared at my crown for a moment and said, “Son, you'll be bald by the time you're 25. I can tell, because I've been working on heads for a long time.”

That was not what I wanted to hear, and I had no interest in any more of his predictions about my future. “Oh, and you'll also be obese and won't be able to hold down a job. Now have a nice day!” No, thanks, Floyd. I never returned. And, get this, Floyd. I still have my hair. Well, most of it.

I missed Jimmy a second time when he was out sick a couple of years ago. I was scheduled to be interviewed that day. I had to find a substitute hair cutter, and fast. Since Floyd was on my no-cut list, I searched hurriedly for a back-up barber/beauty shop. I stopped at the first one I found. It had some cutesy name, like Hair Force One, Brush With Greatness, or Clippety-Doo-Dah. I explained to the young lady that my regular guy always cut my hair a certain way, and that's how it needed to look, since I'm on TV news every day. She told me she never watched the news, because she had heard it was all fake. (I can't imagine where she heard that.) We were off to a great start.

She then asked me to describe my usual cut. I told her my hair was getting a bit shaggy around the edges, and I just needed it to look neat. Overall, short, but not too short.

Fifteen minutes later, I looked like Gomer Pyle's drill sergeant, with the shortest haircut I'd had since my 1st grade school picture. She then charged me twice as much as Jimmy and sent me on my way. My co-workers called me G.I. Joe.

Jimmy was back at work when I arrived for my next scheduled cut, and I felt like hugging him. But that's never a good idea when the reluctant hug-ee has sharp objects in both hands.

That concludes today's column. Now please answer this brief survey to ensure higher quality content in the future.

Was this column timely and informative? Did the writer greet you with a clever opening line? Would you describe the writer's attempts at humor as A) “gut-busting,” B) “knee-slapping,” or C) “You mean it was supposed to be funny?”

Now that you're finished with the column, will you A) tape it to the fridge, B) place it in a scrapbook, or C) fold it into a silly hat.

You have completed the survey! As a reward, take a printed copy of this column to any store (along with two dollars) for a Snickers bar.

David Carroll is a Chattanooga news anchor, and his latest book is “I Won’t Be Your Escape Goat,” available from his website, ChattanoogaRadioTV.com. You may contact him at 900 Whitehall Rd, Chattanooga, TN 37405, or at RadioTV2020@yahoo.com.