For those of you who may know, I get my haircut at the worst barber shop on Long Island. Despite the fact that the haircut is the cheapest in the tri-state area, and the fact that I look adorable after, I would NOT recommend this barber shop. The atmosphere of the place is enough to murder a man. I always make sure to have some sort of make-shift weapon available in my pocket, just in case a donnybrook breaks out.
Today, I arrived at the barber shop in the cold and miserable weather (much like the atmosphere in the shop). My barber was a Russian man who spoke mostly in short phrases . "Welcome comrade!" As I shook his hand, my nostrils were unpleasantly greeted with the strong scent of alcoholic egg-nog. Good God. This is unbelievable! Is he drunk? How do I get out of this? His hands began shaking as he slurred his words.
Now, every time I visit my barber for a cut (we'll call him ###), he always asks me the same questions.
1) How your brother?!- This has some backstory. ### used to cut my brother's hair, UNTIL my brother decided the haircut "wasn't what he expected" because he "wanted it shorter". Now, my brother goes to a different barber. This ultimately leads to ### constantly asking about my brother, as ### greatly prefers him.
2) You got girlfriend?!- This is the worst one. YEAH! GO AHEAD AND RUB IT IN, ###! WE ALL KNOW THE ANSWER TO THAT SO JUST SHUT THE **** UP!
By this point, ### has defeated all sense of dignity that I have accumulated to go the barber in the first place. As made evident, I despise going to the barber shop. The drunken barbers, competition between my brother and me, and the fact that I am currently single combine to form the perfect storm for sadness. I am currently working on a product that allows the user to push out his or her hair to the desired length, or retract hair back into the scalp to avoid haircuts. Stay tuned, and have a good weekend!
didn't come out too shabby :)
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