Another depressing day back from barber shop

If there is one thing that I have utterly failed in last 5 years in United States is when it comes to communicating with my Vietnamese barber. The guy is an always-smiling nice person who thinks every Indian is a software engineer and he speaks in broken english. He keeps on blabbering based on his set of presumptions and has zero listening skills (sounds like my wife :p).
In fact, my dad had to admit that he is a software engineer the last time he went there for hair cut. Now coming to how that affects me..
Here is how a typical visit is like -
I go there hoping the neighboring shop run by real professionals is open (those guys never open!) and our guy catches me - "Oh, my good indian computer engineer is here". Right on spot this time too buddy.
He makes me sit and covers me with a sheet. And here is where I start feeling like I am ready for the autopsy. He goes - "Ok my good sir, how do you want to trim it short today?". And I go, "No trimming mister. I will say it, you listen carefully. Medium on the top and short on the side and back. That simple. Got it".
And he picks up the machine and goes - "Ok, trimming. Got it". Here is where I feel the surgery blade on my chest. I speak up again, "friend, no trimming. medium on the top and short on side and back. do as I say. Will ya?".
He shrugs and goes "yes.. yes.. I got an elephant idol from the last Indian groom who I styled for his wedding".
And I thought to myself, may be the groom wanted to symbolically crush his head with an elephant!
He turns on the machine (yes, the very trimmer!). And I go this time with a more desperate voice "No, trimming buddy. Medium on the..... okay, whatever!!".
He keeps his talking on and I will slip to my intermittent death state with a false hope that some miracle would happen and I will wake up to see Shahrukh on the mirror (without the sixpack ofcourse.. and the stammering.. and the.. okay leave it).
I will sail through my dreams and the background score would be by the Viet Ilayaraja's trimmer.
After ten minutes I woke up and saw on the mirror a figure that told me -
"Mugambo khush hua"