To Band Aid, Or Not To Band Aid

So I have a story...A story about blood, hair, and how to combine the two. You see, the golden rule when cutting hair is to NEVER cut past your second knuckle. If you look at my left hand, you will see why. I recently got my fourth scar. My first I got on my thumb while I wasn't paying attention. I have two on my pointer finger from cutting too fast, and I just got my fourth on my middle finger. If I continue at this pace, I'm thinkin' I'll lose all my fingers before I graduate. This is how it all started:
It was the beginning of a long Saturday at Taylor Andrews Hair Academy. The smell of hair dye and rank old lady perms filled the air. Walking down the hair-covered halls gave the appearance that everyone wore "boots with the fur." As the clients occupied our empty chairs I became very anxious. Waiting and hoping that my chair would be filled next. Today was the day that I was going to finish my January grid. Once you get ahead, stay ahead...that's my motto. Out of the 60 monthly tasks, I only had 2 more to get passed off in order to get my February grid. So I took the initiative and requested a men's haircut for my grid. At 11:30 a.m  the man who was about to change my day, sat in my seat. With my crazy personality my man, Nolan, and I quickly became friends. Nolan was just looking for a good trim to freshen up before his girlfriend came in town for the holidays, and I wanted to hook a brotha up. I started to get comfortable chatting away and choppin' hair. I know this because then I broke the golden rule and my scissors chomped on my middle finger. It actually didn't hurt, I only noticed because blood was slowly spreading all over my finger. The good news is Nolan didn't notice. The bad news is, he didn't notice because I hid my finger in his curly hair. Hahaha, whoops. In this situation you are supposed to immediately excuse yourself and get a band aid, without mentioning that you need a band aid. Believe it or not, pretty much nobody wants a bloody finger in their hair. So I panicked, I didn't want him to see my face's reaction because then he would think maybe I took a chunk out of his hair. Except then I'd have to say no, but explain it was just a chunk out of my finger. Either way I was in a rut. So I did the obvious, I wiped my finger on the apron and finished the haircut. HA. When it was time for my instructor to check off my haircut I went and got a band aid. I was relieved to have the cut hidden in something other than his hair. Thinking I was in the clear I went about with my routine and took Nolan to the shampoo bowl for a wash and scalp massage. This is where I realized it is a blessing we don't have mirrors in our shampoo room. I was in the middle of the scalp massage, the kind where even though Nolan was a talker, this was able to shut him up. (Although it can be creepy when they lay there, eyes closed, with a smile on their face, all because you are massaging them). As I washed his hair I felt something weird, I pulled my hands out of his hair and the weirdness was revealed. My band aid was hanging off my finger. I quietly giggled as I looked around to see if anyone had noticed. Nobody did, so I threw it in the trash beneath me and kept on going. The haircut ended up being a success, although now that I think of it, he was my only client not to tip me. RUDE. Luckily I still got my stamp, I finished my grid, and I have another battle wound to add to my left hand.