Tuesday, May 04, 2004

The other day I went to my local barbershop. I'm not exactly sure why I've kept going back to this place the last 20 of so years because I usually end up getting the worst haircuts of all time. You know, the type of haircuts where the barber clearly neglects to cut one side of your head or shaves one of your sideburns off and leaves the other one long?

But i'd feel bad going to another barber, because this guy has been cutting my hair since the days when I was so short that you had to stack 3 phones books on the barber chair. Whenever he cuts my hair he is always carrying on 5 random conversations with different people in the shop and never actually paying attention to the fact that he's destroying my precious hair.

I'll never forget when I was 10 years old and it was supposedly hip to have designs shaved in the back of your head. He for some reason thought that I had asked to have a basketball shaved in the back of my head. After the cut I looked in the mirror to check out the back and said "what the hell is this, I didn't want a basketball shaved in the back of my head?" He said, "I'm sorry, I must have made a mistake" and then gave me a handful of lollipops. Yeah that really helped. That was the worst ever, I hate basketball.

But even though he isn't the best barber in the world, over the years he's become part of our family. Everytime I sit down in the chair he always asks, "so what kind of haircut do you want today?" And I always say, "I want a haircut that will get me tons of chicks" and he always laughs and says, "I'm a barber, not a miracle worker."