I got a haircut this weekend. Pretty exciting right? That’s worth a whole blog post, right? Oh ye of little faith! I have interesting things to say. I do, I do! I got a haircut at the place that’s right next to my apartment building. There’s this dude in there that I like–he’s young. He’s Russian I think. Anyway, so this time after I finish he says, do you want a shot? I said, ummm ok. And then he’s like what do you want? And I see that he has this little bar with like say 10 different kinds of liquor. So it’s not just like some idle thing he’s concocted. No, he has a whole liquor cabinet. The guy in the chair next to me did one together. We both had Jameson’s.
Very odd. I’ve never heard of anything like this. My girlfriend back in college used to go to a hairdresser that would let you smoke, she’d even give you one. But that seems strange but not unheard of–I mean that was Harrisonburg too. They don’t call it the Dirty South for nothing.
Anyway, in this aftermath, I can’t decide if this is something I’m looking forward to going back for or not. As my friend Flynn pointed out, I should make sure that it’s not my hair dresser who’s doing shots too. But still, I prefer this to the other Russian place by my work where the tough Russian women want to seriously trim my eyebrows done to pencil thin length. And the shots dude uses the hot foam and straight razor to shave you too. I love that. I’m a fan of the old school haircut! So set me up again…
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