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The other day I went to get a haircut. A haircut. You know the thing where they snip-snip your hair. You get it, right? Work was so insanely busy that my own hair started looking like the enemy. So I went to the companys outsourced in-house barbershop. The locations even deeper than usual. Take the elevator to B2, go to the end of the hallway, ignore the Authorized Personnel Only sign, push open the heavy metal door that used to be a storage room. Inside, as expected: empty. Bare concrete walls, one flickering fluorescent tube on the ceiling going jjjj