The cross-eyed Hairdresser
i figured that it was time to cut my hair. shit, it looked
like a fucking forest up there and i did get an hour for
lunch. the barbershop was 2 stations from my work place and
was highly recommended by my friend josh. i got there with
the highest expectations, and just as i was about to enter
the establishment the door was taken from my by this white
lady who was quickly followed by a black lady.
and damn they booked it. now if there are three rules about
waiting in lines they are.
1.) don't stand behind a fat person at a buffet
2.) a jew at a bank
3.) a woman at a hairdresser's
i begged and i pleaded with them, telling them that my
appointment wouldn't take more than 5 mins., but they would
have none of it. they crassly snuffed me out as they also
just had a lunch to get their do in check.
so i sat down dejectedly, luckily i had brought a book with
me so i didn't have to pretend to give a shit about some
obnoxious celebrities trivial mishaps. then i looked up at
the two hairdressers hard at work, one was a black woman,
and the other was this indian woman. she looked about 50
and she had huge coke bottled glasses. as i looked at her
more closely i noticed that her eyes were kind of weird.
yes...yes, as she danced around the child chopping off bits
and pieces of his hair i noticed that her eyes didn't quite
follow her line of work. in fact one went out to the side
and the other kind of lollied around. my mouth hit the
floor as i just thought about how this had to be ajournal
entry and how she just sounded too good to be real. but
there i was, sitting at a barbershop with a cross-eyed, or
rather lazy-eyed barber dancing a jig of hellish snippets
neither of the other two women had noticed her and finally
it came to their turn. the black barber took the white
woman, and a few seconds later the boy hopped off his chair
and the indian lady came forth. the look on the other
lady's face was priceless. she seriously looked for a camera
(i swear she did) and must have thought this was just some
stupid bullshit. she got up and actually said,
"nawh, hell nawh! i'm waitin'."
"noooo, noooo, is canna takya nowa."
"no. uh uh, actually i gotta get her to do it cos she, um,
she um knows me and what i like, so uh, you can. hey you
wanna go ahead ah me?"
awwhhhhh how kind. it's generous gestures like that that
make the world go round. but now i was still left with this
crazy looking indian woman who was just putting on the
clipper guard 4 on her very sharp razor. i gulped and
watched her sheer away my hair. i started wondering if
maybe she was retarded, because she kept on laughing, which
really wigged me out, not really laughing, but grunting in a
sort of giggle. and she constantly hopped from one foot to
another. now i'm no expert on cutting hair, but i'd think
you'd want to stand the fuck still when you do it. my lips
began to quiver as i realized a buzz cut or completely
shaven head was inevitable as this crazy beauty school hex
was going to town on my nice conservative hair-do.
i suddenly felt something really weird. she was taking the
razor all the way to the top of my head, actually sheering
off my hair in what i had only a few seconds before thought
of as a sad, but not too plausible happenstance. i shrieked,
"no, no! scissors, do it with scissors up there!"
"wha? up herya? you want clippa gard foh? i have foh!"
"no, i do on hte sides, but the top i want with scissors, i
don't want it shaven!"
"oh, ahhhh, ok, i sees, you shoulda tell me you just
want....." she paused for a while so i looked back and
caught the other lady sitting there in quiet horror, eyes
wide as the moon, and i could see her lips moving in a tiny
prayer of thankfulness that she had pushed me into the fire
of barber hell, where the devil is about 5'0", has coke
bottle glasses and has a razor that sounds like a dirt
devil; i looked back at the barber as she found the right
she pulled scissors from what seemed to be the depths of her
anus and just went to town. no water or anything. she
grabbed here, pulled there and just went straight apeshit on
my head. i just closed my eyes and just thought,
"oh well, you can always just shave it and it'll grow back."
3 mins. later i opened my eyes as she was dusting the hair
off my face, ready to weep, and my jaw hit the ground a
second time. not only had she salvaged my hair-do, but she
had made it look good!
i sauntered towards the other lady who was still waiting for
the first one to get done (she was nowhere near done). as i
walked towards her, i could see, what i thought, as
annoyance. it seemed as if she was really impressed and
pissed at herself for not having gone ahead. i paid as she
"actually i'm in a hurry, you can do me."
the lady looked up and smiled ruefully, damn she knew she
had this woman,
"i can'ta, i haves luncha nowah, but other lady, shoulda be
done very quick."
i left as the squabbling picked up.