A Slice of Fried Gold

The Butcher of Sears Mall

Thursday, April 9, 2009

For part of my pre Europe planning, I decided I needed to go get a haircut. Generally, I think Europe prefers people to not like hobos, so I went with it. Anyways, so as per usual when I'm up against a time crunch and wanting to get a haircut, I make a panic decision and go to this chain salon in the Sears Mall in Anchorage. Pretty much always guaranteed to be a complete and utter failure, this one took it to a new level.

The problem wasn't even that it was a bad haircut (it was), it was the myriad of other bizarre reasons that presented themselves regularly:

  • It was a dude cutting my hair
  • A dude who disappeared for 10 minutes after staring at the mirror for 5 seconds and then announcing "I need to go to the bathroom"
  • A dude who I was rather convinced was high
  • A dude, who when discussing Europe with me, announced that he loves Amsterdam and had been there "3 times"
  • A dude who shared with me that his friend had paid for a blow job in Amsterdam, much to the chagrin of his 2 coworkers and the 2 ladies who were getting their haircut
  • A dude whose best haircutting techniques were the "tilt my head through violent thrusting of his razor" and "the ear cut"
  • A dude who made my typically 15 minute haircut last 50 seemingly unending minutes
  • A dude who, when completed, took hair paste to make my hair look exactly the same as his, using approximately somewhere between 45 and 21 pounds of said paste
Needless to say, I did not like that haircut. No I didn't, not one bit.

Strangely enough, I received no less than five compliments about my new haircut. Apparently weirdo drug addled stylists who may or may not be trying to murder their clients but are mighty fine at cutting hair.

1 comments:

JManda said...

HAHAHAHAH! I wish I could have been there.

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