why are there no barbers anymore?
i had to get my hair cut so i went wandering around looking for places that cut hair. far too many looked like they specialised in women (and judging by the male hairdressers i saw: i don’t mean sexually). i walked past one place, saw hair weaves being done and just kept walking…
eventually i found a place that said unisex and didn’t claim to be a hair salon or something pants like that. so i walk in and see 2 people (who obviously work there) sitting around chatting with no (zero, nada, nil, zilch) customers around. i ask:”how much for ‘short back and sides’?” her response: “That’s just a haircut. seventy rand.”
well of course it’s a fucking haircut. do you think i walked in here looking for a strangely pruned hedge or something? i respond: “ok. do you have an opening now?” *eyes empty shop…* she looks down at her diary and responds: “oh. not at the moment.” me: “what about tomorrow around 2?” her: “hmmm… no. what about 1:30?” me: “i’ll have to check my times. thanks.”
i walked out and promptly recorded them on my mental list of places to firebomb. i guess their chat was more important than making some money. so i walk another 20 meters and try the next place.
guess what… they charge 40 rand and have a free slot right then and there (guess the first place just lost 70 bucks). so i ask for ‘short back and sides” which (to my knowledge) is a standard haircut request. she asks me if that means i want my hair cut with scissors.
wtf? no. i’d like to see you achieve a haircut like that using a nervous chiuaua. of course with scissors! no, i don not want all the hair shaved off the back and sides of my head leaving me with a tuft on top like some 80’s alternative throwback. fashion from the 80’s should be left in the 80’s. mustaches from the 70’s are a whole different ballgame however, but i digress.
so while she’s snipping away i wondered: where have all the barber shops gone? i’d like a place where i’m not served by a hair technologist or a hairstyle consultant or anything lame like that. i’d be served by an old gent called steve or jim.
there’d be cigars to smoke while you wait and a calander with sexy women dressed as mechanics would be hanging on the wall. you’d be called up to the chair with the cry: “next lady for a shave.”
there’d be no questioning a “short back and sides” order. he’d knowexactly what that was. in fact he probably cuts all orders exactly the same: short back and sides! and while doing that he’d ask if you want a shave and get out the little shaving cream brush and the cutthroat razor which he’d sharpen on a strap of leather before expertly giving you a smooth, yet manly face.
and none of that stupid hair gunk or blowdrying either. real mean don’t need something with the consistency of slightly dehydrated semen in their hair. real men walk the world sans gel.
and steve/jim would know you by your name and know your order by the second time you went back. if you were lucky you’d get to talk politics while sipping single malt scotch while steve/jim removed your beard.
where did places like that go?
i don’t want some hair evolutionist to be consulting my shakra to arrange the karma of my folicles via their specialised hairstyle sculpting devices. i want steve/jim to to use stainless steel scissors to cut my hair while talking polotics and swearing about the damn commies!