Saturday, January 27, 2018
[fragment]
How does one begin to describe Saturday mornings? That lazy, lay-in-bed, nothing-to-do, no-where-to-go feeling. Is this what retirement feels like?
I hoist myself up, lean against headboard, adjust the laptop and screen brightness and begin ingesting data, photos, emails and the morning news. There’s a Metro North train whistle in the distance, Manhattan bound. Thank God that’s not me.
It’s 7:34 a.m. 16 minutes from opening. We’ve officially boycotted The Salon after the last and final experience in Red Lines, Banalities and Grumpy Middle Aged Men.
So, we’re back. Back to Barber Shop. I pull into the lot at 7:57 a.m. and a “We’re Open” sign hangs from the door.
“Good morning!”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No, anyone is fine.”
“Ok, no worries, we’ll be right with you.”
Wait time: 2 minutes.
“How would you like it?”
“Not short. Light trim, please.” Are you kidding? Crew cut. Tight. High and Tight. Flat top. Trim. This is a Barber Shop. Like it matters. The precision here is akin to cutting your lawn with a scythe v. a Honda power mower.
He grabs his bottle and spritzes me. Water droplets snail down my forehead. The mist clears, and there is me, staring at me in the mirror. Wow. Look at you. When did this happen? A few desperate hairs cover the front end of your scalp. That ain’t a flattering picture Pal.
And he gets after it. With a whole lot of electric clipper and not much scissor.
Cut hair is flying and falling. I can’t bear to look. Paul Simon comes piping in through the ceiling speakers with The Boy and the Bubble:
“These are the days of miracle and wonder. And don’t cry baby, don’t cry. Don’t cry.”
“Is it short enough?”
“Oh, Yes, we’re good. Let’s stop there.” Gulp.
No shampoo.
No conditioner.
No rinse.
No blow dry.
No hair gel.
“Do you take MasterCard?”
“Sure”
I glance at my watch — and then at the bill — and, then at me in the mirror behind the front desk.
Less than half the time.
Less than half the price.
Less than half of the hair I came in with.
It’ll grow back. (Maybe)
[end]
Notes: Post structure inspired by Madeleine Thien, Dogs at the Perimeter: A Novel. Photo: via Military Haircuts
Don’t worry pal. It takes a few visits before the testosterone gets absorbed and takes effect.
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Laughing. A few defined how?
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How very, very, very funny – well done – Apply gel at home! Have a very good weekend
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Thank you Kiki.
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Pressed send too quickly – The question really is: With this cut many questions needn’t be asked:
No shampoo – OK, you probably washed your hair (long) under the shower anyway before leaving the house
No conditioner – ???? Hero Husband never was asked about conditioner – but hey, we’re not in NYC
No rinse – yep, tick! No shampoo, no rinse
No hair gel – are you kidding me? On those microscopic short hairs? That would just glue up your scalp….
Half the cost – go for a strong coffee on the way home and pull your wool hat down 🙂
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Laughing. I did have the hat. Thanks Kiki!
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The less hair we have the more precious it becomes. At least you didn’t go for a comb-over!
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Laughing. All true!
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Nicely done, Dave.
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Thank you Len. Hope you are well.
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you get half of what you pay half for and have only half leftover. ))
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Ha! Good one.
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Indeed..it will grow back and just think of how your trip to the barber shop delighted us.😊
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Smiling. I wish I had your confidence (and your full head of hair) 🙂
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In the interest of full disclosure -I hate going to get my hair cut…I call it ‘hair jail’ and feel incarcerated while there.
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Funny. I feel exactly that way at Dentist. Claustrophobia.
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Me too! I’m a total dentist-phobe.
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OMG!!! I feel this deeply. For me, my day at the hairdresser’s is a holy day of obligation. And it WILL grow back, as I know only too well. 🤣
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Smiling. As I told Mimi earlier, I wish I had your confidence and your head of hair.
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My dad went to the same barber in our little town —Fred — for over 40 years. He gave AWFUL, and I do mean awful, haircuts. HE could have been using a scythe, and my dad would not have cared. LOVED him. Made his pilgrimage to Fred’s shop (Complete with little swirling barber pole) ever other week, chatted him up, got all the town scuttlebutt and a bit of time away from his desk. It was a ritual akin to Sunday service. Your post made it all come flooding back, pal. Thank you….
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Smiling. What a wonderful memory. Thanks for sharing Lori.
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My boys have been going to the same barbershop with oniy women barbers (ettes?) since their first haircut – their dad’s same one (I.was blown away 3 years ago whrn they offered their condolences because they had seen the unit in the newspaper). Maybe you need that to assure you! They use scissors and clippera and do what you ask. Though each chair has its own sink, I’ve yet to see.them do more than spritz the hair with a water bottle!
Don’t worry, David, what’s meant to grow back, will… 😘
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“What’s meant to grow back, will?!?!” That’s exactly what I’m worried about!
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LOL! Your hair!!
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I guess no hair dryer either!
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Correct!
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Non-attachment to everything Mr K ..Except for our hair ha! I think about all the people who have no hair to worry about or the crazy experiences we face at barbers or hairdressers! Lucky them 👍😀
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Laughing. Truth!
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Maybe…
LOOOL
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Half of everything…almost. Double the time before you need to go back. Long-term outlook favorable. Less than half of the half price you paid yesterday.
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Truth!
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Photo reminds me of seeing a barber shop in the Pentagon mall many decades ago. The guys waiting outside to get theirs cut had shorter hair than I’ve ever had. The shop must have had 30 barbers going flat out!
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Smiling. I can see that!
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can’t wait for your next barber visit…. the last two, have been quite entertaining. I’d like for you to go again, really soon though. Laughter is the best medicine 🙂
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Laughing. It will be a while…thanks Debi
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