A hole in the wall

[ouch]

I was down in Florida on vacation this week, and decided to "rough it"-one razor, one cream, one aftershave, cologne by Panama Jack. I know, barbaric.
A few days of sunbathing, overindulging, and petting manatees (I am my daughter's hero, big time), and the obligatory visit to friends who live on--so help me-- I Dream OF Genie Lane. Then we hit Disney. I have seen the end of the civilization. You would be well advised not to hum It's a Small World in my presense.
My incredibly considerate wife granted me a day off to pursue Cuban cigars, cock fights, and rum in the Miami area. I stumbled into a little barber shop that was displaced in time. There was a hand written sign that simply said "Shave. $6. Only great." How could I refuse?

Before I knew it, a cigar-chomping octegenarian, wielding a savage-looking straight, approached. I briefly considered that not a soul alive knew where I was, and visions of being sold for parts did cross my mind. Not to fear- I received one of the best shaves I can remember, and before long we were playing cards, downing cervesas, and smoking some of the strongest stogies imaginable. No one spoke a word of English, and I had a great time and a great shave from a scruffy old geezer who just plum knew what he was doing.

Sometimes it just all works out.

[joel]

I was down in Florida on vacation this week, and decided to "rough it"-one razor, one cream, one aftershave, cologne by Panama Jack. I know, barbaric.
A few days of sunbathing, overindulging, and petting manatees (I am my daughter's hero, big time), and the obligatory visit to friends who live on--so help me-- I Dream OF Genie Lane. Then we hit Disney. I have seen the end of the civilization. You would be well advised not to hum It's a Small World in my presense.
My incredibly considerate wife granted me a day off to pursue Cuban cigars, cock fights, and rum in the Miami area. I stumbled into a little barber shop that was displaced in time. There was a hand written sign that simply said "Shave. $6. Only great." How could I refuse?

Before I knew it, a cigar-chomping octegenarian, wielding a savage-looking straight, approached. I briefly considered that not a soul alive knew where I was, and visions of being sold for parts did cross my mind. Not to fear- I received one of the best shaves I can remember, and before long we were playing cards, downing cervesas, and smoking some of the strongest stogies imaginable. No one spoke a word of English, and I had a great time and a great shave from a scruffy old geezer who just plum knew what he was doing.

Sometimes it just all works out.

Do ya remember the name of the place? We should send fellas down there by the dozen!

[Austin]

Ouch, very cool story. Once in a life time experience.