hollywood hair
Today I went for a haircut. My normal barber is on holiday (and as he’s Greek, I’m betting he’s in Greece, which is not a good thing at the minute) so I had to find someplace else to go.
I landed in a Paul Mitchell’s which actually went by the name of Hollywood Hair. I had visions of running into Bret Michaels (as opposed to Brett DeMichaels….totally different guy) but had no such luck. Mind you, I’m not a Bret Michaels fan, still, it would have made for a very interesting haircut had he made it and I might have been able to get in a couple of digs on him for writing “Every Rose”. However, Bret Michaels was not needed because Hollywood Hair was tacky enough on its own.
I suppose they were going for “classy”. They offered me something to drink when I came in (one of those pretentious little drinks that Jamie and Becca….and pretty much all of my Americans friends love to mention on their facebook updates) and took my coat. Then, because there weren’t enough stereotypes in the place, they sent over an Italian man named Antonio to cut my hair. Antonio looked a lot like Russell Brand, if you’re familiar. He had long black hair, tight black jeans, lots of weird bracelets, an earring or two, and some groovy facial hair. He was on his game.
He came over, got a little too intimate with my head, and then asked, “How you like your hair?”, going on to make a few suggestions. I informed him that I was just looking for a simple haircut; number two on the sides and back, and even it out on the top. “You like it cut up to here?”, he said, motioning with his finger to describe how far up the side of my head he might use that number two. “Do whatever you do”, I said, “I’m not real picky”. And so the haircut began.
During the course of the haircut, I got the same questions I always get from somebody I’ve just met and am forced to spend some time with. “Where you from?” “You like George Bush?” “You vote for Obama?” “You like it here?” “Why you leave America?” “I would like to go to America.” “I have friends in (fill in the blank)” And then we usually cover one of the three major American theories; Who shot JFK? Did America really land on the moon? Do you think George Bush faked 911? Antonio also suggested some coloring. “It bring out your highlights”, he said. I wasn’t sure if he was referring to my gray highlights or what, all I new was, I wasn’t getting any coloring. I managed to make it out with only a haircut, a decent one at that, and a reminder of why guys like me don’t go to Paul Mitchell and why we definitely don’t go to places called Hollywood Hair. Still, I do think that I’m looking rather fabulous. At least from the ears up.
That’s all for now. More soon.
I landed in a Paul Mitchell’s which actually went by the name of Hollywood Hair. I had visions of running into Bret Michaels (as opposed to Brett DeMichaels….totally different guy) but had no such luck. Mind you, I’m not a Bret Michaels fan, still, it would have made for a very interesting haircut had he made it and I might have been able to get in a couple of digs on him for writing “Every Rose”. However, Bret Michaels was not needed because Hollywood Hair was tacky enough on its own.
I suppose they were going for “classy”. They offered me something to drink when I came in (one of those pretentious little drinks that Jamie and Becca….and pretty much all of my Americans friends love to mention on their facebook updates) and took my coat. Then, because there weren’t enough stereotypes in the place, they sent over an Italian man named Antonio to cut my hair. Antonio looked a lot like Russell Brand, if you’re familiar. He had long black hair, tight black jeans, lots of weird bracelets, an earring or two, and some groovy facial hair. He was on his game.
He came over, got a little too intimate with my head, and then asked, “How you like your hair?”, going on to make a few suggestions. I informed him that I was just looking for a simple haircut; number two on the sides and back, and even it out on the top. “You like it cut up to here?”, he said, motioning with his finger to describe how far up the side of my head he might use that number two. “Do whatever you do”, I said, “I’m not real picky”. And so the haircut began.
During the course of the haircut, I got the same questions I always get from somebody I’ve just met and am forced to spend some time with. “Where you from?” “You like George Bush?” “You vote for Obama?” “You like it here?” “Why you leave America?” “I would like to go to America.” “I have friends in (fill in the blank)” And then we usually cover one of the three major American theories; Who shot JFK? Did America really land on the moon? Do you think George Bush faked 911? Antonio also suggested some coloring. “It bring out your highlights”, he said. I wasn’t sure if he was referring to my gray highlights or what, all I new was, I wasn’t getting any coloring. I managed to make it out with only a haircut, a decent one at that, and a reminder of why guys like me don’t go to Paul Mitchell and why we definitely don’t go to places called Hollywood Hair. Still, I do think that I’m looking rather fabulous. At least from the ears up.
That’s all for now. More soon.
Comments on "hollywood hair"
WE'RE TOO YOUNG TO GO GRAY!!!!!!
Fabulous from the ears up? That wouldn't do me much good.
So as long as no one sees you from the ears down. . . I personally must really on the car or eating a lot to impress. As for the haircut. The last time I got my haircut by someone was before my wedding. The lady sort of freaked me out, way too much talky for Sean. I imagine it is one of those things I could grow from socially, but I elect rather to cut my own hair. Sometimes I mess up, but i set the bar really low so no one notices.
However, if there was an Italian guy nearby, I would hit that up. It would be pretty high class to say, "Yeah, I got my hair done by an Italian stylist."