the barber shop

the barber shop

I walked into the door and it was a little chinese grocery store. There was a printout bulleting the words “barber shop” that lead me up the stairway. Now I was standing in some familiy’s living room. Grandpa, son and grandson were all sitting on the couch watching TV. Some funny smell came out of a room, which later turned out to be a kitchen. In the middle of all this there was a barber chair.

It was one of those situations where I really should have just walked out. But I didn’t. I stayed. I said “yes” when the old lady asked me to sit down. And I never should have. The old lady (probably the grandmother) started cutting my hair. I was fairly happy with that choice, as I was under the impression that with age comes experience. Well, this old lad might have had a lot of experience, but surely not in cutting hair. The first 30 minutes were spent cutting around my ears. This was followed by 15 minutes of shaving my neck and sideburns. As I was a bit unpatient (after having spent an entire hour in this random living room), I reminded the lady that I wanted my sides to be fairly short. I should have never said that. Never should have…

The lady took a pre World War II pair of clippers and started applying them to the back of my head. By the time, she came to the side of my head, I realized that there was no hair left. This was not a completely accurate assessment, but the best I could have made considering that the TV was the sole source of light in the room. Yet, it was pretty bad. Actually, it was really bad. It’s hard to describe how I looked, but it was terrifying. Now the old lad moved on to shaving off my sideburns (which I have been trying to grow for the past 22 years). Everybody was talking some unidentifyable asian language and I was sweating. Sweating like a pig. This was the kind of haircut that would have me lose my job. People would think that I was a lunatic. After trying to explain  the concept of blending the two layered landscapes of hair she had created, the lady finally confessed that she was no trained haircutter and that I would have to wait for her daughter to finish my haircut. So, I waited for the daughter. Everyone in the room had a blast. The TV had become a secondary form of entertainment and I had really brought some life into this family.

The daughter tried to fix my hair, yet I can’t say that she did a good job. After having met back up with my friend, my haircut quickly became the center of entertainment within our group as well. What a day…

Sunday morning: I had another soccer game. We won 2:0 and I was able to contribute one goal.  All the french guys brought their girlfriends. They were really cute and every single on of them thought I was an idiot. At least, they thought that I looked like one.

Sunday afternoon: I got my hair cut at Super Cuts. I was only charged for a hair trim (instead of a full cut). Everybody felt really bad for me. Once again, I did bring a lot of life into that barber shop as well.

Sunday night: I went and saw the Super Sonics play against the Utah Jazz. Karl Malone and John Stockton were quite the show, but we ended up beating them.

Ben is going to court tommorrow morning. Good luck Ben…Also, I am going to work, hoping that people will understand…