I turned myself in for a haircut. I hadn’t had an official
haircut in sometime. I’d been trimming it myself, mainly around the ears to
maintain the mane. I even asked a lady friend who seemed capable enough, but
with no previous experience to trim it for me. It was just a mess. It was long
and choppy. People were starting to look at me like I was nuts.
I
like to go to an old school barbershop in the neighborhood. The barbers are tough
looking Mexican cats who have brought back the old traditions of barbering.
They give you a massage when they’re finished with your haircut. They use a
vibrating hand massager that you can buy at Sears, big burly guys giving
massages. It’s kind of weird, but it feels good.
I
walked into the shop and sat down in a barber’s chair. There was a television
on. It was mounted in a corner near the ceiling. I didn’t pay much attention to
it at first, but as I settled in I realized the men were watching a cooking
show. There was a woman explaining
how to make Pavlova muffins.
“A
cooking show huh?” I said.
“You've got to keep the ladies happy,” said a burly barber.
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