Get a haircut!

The poster which got my attention

It has been about three months since my last ‘do’.  For those unaware, I went quite short.  The new do was quite good, and I really enjoyed it for a change…but ‘dos’ grow out, and can leave you look pretty silly.  What was once a clean cut, 1930’s style cut, was now something of a bushy bowl-ish type thing sitting atop of my head.  To be honest, I was getting pretty embarrassed by it.

I managed to snip a bit off here and there, and even got Tonya to chop away a bit at it.  It was ok for a few weeks, but then back with a vengeance.  I had to get it shaped up.  I wish I could snap my fingers and be on the verge of a ’73 style mullet in no time, but this is reality.  One must suffer through their bowl phase before they get into the soccer player hair.  So be it.  I would have to tough it out, but I can do it with dignity.  I had to get rid of the bowl and get something that was a bit more ‘timeless’.

“I don’t know” Tonya said while eyeing up some local chop shops, “would you trust any of these?” she asks with some true concern.  “Well, where do you think all these people get their haircut?” was my simple reply.  I like styles that can look on the verge of being ‘bad’, so I was not that afraid.  Don’t get me wrong-there are millions of truly bad haircuts here.  Not good bad, but truly bad bad.  I must see thousands of faux-hawks a day…yes, it is en-vogue here. Get my drift? (Actually, the Mexicans here sport a lot of bad haircuts just like they do back in the States.)

So today we had some free time and we were in the neighborhood.  It was my big day.  I would get my first Mexican haircut.  I was about 70% excited and 30% apprehensive.  In any case, this was going to be an experience for me.

We had seen this one shop with those posters in the window that show the wide variety of cuts they can give, you know, similar to those African paintings of crazy cuts.  It just so happened that we were closest to this very shop, so we decided to walk by and have a look-see.  I thought it was empty and stuck my head in.  There were two barbers and two clients.  One guy cutting hair and the other was a little old man giving a guy an old time shave job in the corner.  We stalled for a minute, then Tonya asked how much. 50 pesos for a man’s cut.  Tonya said to come on in and we would do it.  As we sat down and waited for my turn, we were watching the guy in the corner get his shave done.  Tonya whispered to me, “I hope you don’t get that guy” she said motioning to the old fella.  “How can I?” I said as I pointed out that the other barber was whisking away hairs form his client, “the old guy is just getting started.  My guy is done.”

Sizing me up, envisioning his handywork

The barber shook the barber cape and invited up into his simple chair.  He wraps the cape around me and asks what I want.   I look to Tonya to explain.  She tells him that I like it messy.  Give it some shape, but do not cut too short.  I assume these are the instructions, but truthfully I have no idea.  The barber just nodded his head and grabbed a squirt bottle and started to spray me like a bad dog.

Wait.  Did he just use that comb on the previous guy?  I didn’t see any of those glowing purple lights that disinfect tools.  He just moved a towel and grabbed his tools and started to work.  I was a bit nervous.  I wanted a good, interesting cut.  I was not interested in taking anything else with me form the barber…like lice or some funky scalp disease.

Nothing to do but sit and watch...

Normally while you sit there and watch your locks drop to the floor (aside form the few that end up in your mouth or nostrils), you have some small talk with the barber.  Not me.  I just sat like an 8 year old and let the man do his job.  He did get to chat though, just not with me.  A lady came in and started talking to him.  He stopped and chatted, then handed her some keys.  I thought this interruption may throw him off a bit, but he kept right on going.  A few minutes later the lady came back and gave him his keys.  She said something that made him go outside.  He did this twice!  I looked in the mirror at Tonya.  She raised her eyebrows and shrugged.  Too late now, I am well into my new ‘do’.

He really didn’t take long at all.  When he grabbed the clippers to cut the fuzz on the back of my neck, I knew he was in the home stretch.  I look back to Tonya and this time she is nodding her head.  She thinks it looks ok!  The barber grabs the blow dryer and puts his final touches on.  He grabs a huge brush and whisks away my strays.  He stands aside and asks me what I think.  I assume he asks me this, as I didn’t understand him.  A quick glance shows no more bowl.  It looks a bit more controlled.  Tonya says it is good.  I stand up and nod, “muchas gracias” I tell him.  I am sincere.  I am happy with my cut.  I get some dough and a bit for a tip and as the next customer is getting in the chair, I hand it to my guy.  I tell him thank you once again, and he nods and smiles.  I walk to Tonya and she says, “It looks good.  I like it”

he's taking a break to talk to a lady...

Putting the final touches on

As we walk out of the shop Tonya is continuing with her opinion, “I think he did a great job.  He started in and kept it a decent length.  I think he did great for a $4 haircut…I would even go to him to get mine cut” She is dead serious. “Really! I think he did just what I told him.  He did a pretty stylish job for that little shop.  That would have cost you a lot more back home” I have no idea what the cut really looks like, but she is making me feel like a real suave dude.  As we stride down the stone streets I feel relieved.  I actually feel a few inches taller with new confidence.  I feel I can walk past any faux-hawk now and stare him down with my ‘in control’ style I’m sporting.  Believe me, it is a far cry from the ‘mom let me out to come play’ bowl-style that had grown on my head.

Now-it is the time trial.  Let’s give it a few days and see the real craftsmanship shine through.