Friday, October 9, 2009


I recently and embarrassingly got my haircut at...(swallows pride)...Supercuts. In the hair salon business, Supercuts is the equivalent of eating at a McDonalds. Despite the popularity and negative image of this place, I'm usually pretty happy with my haircuts, unlike the feeling I get after eating a Big Mac.

This last time was different. I knew it before it happened, I sensed it. It was something in the air, the flow of the day, and the characters I came across, something was definitely off. I'm sitting in the waiting area and a father and his pissed off son come in for a haircut too and after putting their name down, the son's like, "I'm gonna go to the Halloween store next door" and right when that happened I thought, "I'm going to get a bad haircut!".

Turns out that the haircut wasn't too bad, but not awesome either. The part that was off was the lady cutting my hair. I don't know if she's a character or she just lacks character.

It started when the receptionist walked by and my haircut lady said to the receptionist, "Oh yeah, I need to talk to you, I have stories to tell".

The kiss ass that I am to people making me food, washing my car, or in this case, cutting my hair, I decide to be funny and say, "I want to hear the stories too!". That's when the receptionist walked by again, placed her hand on my shoulder, and whispered, "trust me, she has a lot of stories" in a, "you're a fucking idiot, good luck digging yourself out of this hole" way.

So haircut lady is in her mid to late 40s, black poofy hair, and can pass as a fish. Her first story starts off with a night out at Acapulco for margaritas.

Haircut Lady: So I was having margaritas with some friends and then they (Acapulco workers) come out with a cake singing "Happy Birthday" to me and it's not even my birthday. I told them as a joke, but they believed me.

I thought the story was going somewhere, but I should expect less from fish lady.

Haircut Lady: I like Acapulco, it's a nice place. I can always go there. The bartender always gets happy when I show up. One time I asked for ten Coronas and he started to actually take ten out and I was like, "No, I was just kidding". It was so funny that he believed me.

Oh my GOD!! Why are you creating these boring visuals in my head!? You're rotting my brain more than tv.

Haircut Lady: Acapulco usually closes at ten and one night I told the bartender that we're going to stay till midnight and his face looked like, how do you say, pooped in his clothes?

Me: ...shit his pants??

Haircut Lady: Yeah, like he shit his pants, but I was kidding.

Instead of band camp, it was Acapulco for this lady. It was sad and it was painful to listen to. Next time I'm going to shut my mouth so whoever's cutting my hair can concentrate on my hair and not daydream about cute bartenders and remembering just-kidding moments gone wrong in their life.

If she reads this blog, she'll think, "This haircut lady sounds awesome, I should go have margaritas with her at Acapulco!".

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