Last weekend the in-laws stopped by for a visit on their way to vacation in Oregon. I gave my father in law a shaving kit I made. He seemed to like it.
They used to live here in town before retiring to Tucson and he told me of a good, old school barber shop. The guy uses a straight razor to shave your neck and trim your sideburns and he uses some old barber shop scents.
I, of course, had to try it out and I needed a hair cut anyway.
So I drive to the shop and walk in the door. An elderly gentleman slowly walked from the back and stared at me.... he didn't speak he just stared and moved his eyes from my head to my feet.
I said, "I'd like a hair cut." And he grunted, "alright".
See I went there wearing a tee shirt, shorts and flip/ flops. Apparently the attire of a Commie/ pinko, like the ones who shot his buddy in Korea. I think he saw flip/ flops and images of me burning a flag and bayonetting babies ran through his mind. Or something, but man he obviously didn't like my kind.
The shop was so old school. Two old, barber chairs and behind the long bar and mirrors. I saw lots of old bottles of scents I am sure I would remember from my childhood. If only I go to stay there long enough.
So I sat down and he slapped his hand on my head and pulled hard.
"Gel !!!", he shouted. "I don't cut hair the gel in it... Gums up ma'clippers."
"I...I...don't have gel in my hair."
"I know gel... I don't cut hair with gel. Sorry."
So I left and drove to my usual place and Heather got a good laugh. She said she never trusted me either.
Heather looks a lot better too.
They used to live here in town before retiring to Tucson and he told me of a good, old school barber shop. The guy uses a straight razor to shave your neck and trim your sideburns and he uses some old barber shop scents.
I, of course, had to try it out and I needed a hair cut anyway.
So I drive to the shop and walk in the door. An elderly gentleman slowly walked from the back and stared at me.... he didn't speak he just stared and moved his eyes from my head to my feet.
I said, "I'd like a hair cut." And he grunted, "alright".
See I went there wearing a tee shirt, shorts and flip/ flops. Apparently the attire of a Commie/ pinko, like the ones who shot his buddy in Korea. I think he saw flip/ flops and images of me burning a flag and bayonetting babies ran through his mind. Or something, but man he obviously didn't like my kind.
The shop was so old school. Two old, barber chairs and behind the long bar and mirrors. I saw lots of old bottles of scents I am sure I would remember from my childhood. If only I go to stay there long enough.
So I sat down and he slapped his hand on my head and pulled hard.
"Gel !!!", he shouted. "I don't cut hair the gel in it... Gums up ma'clippers."
"I...I...don't have gel in my hair."
"I know gel... I don't cut hair with gel. Sorry."
So I left and drove to my usual place and Heather got a good laugh. She said she never trusted me either.
Heather looks a lot better too.
