Saturday, September 06, 2008
Funny story, this is. But first, some background.
Last time I went to a barber was 1993, or maybe 1992. Once I had lassoed my wife, I started chopping my own hair, maybe with her help, because I wasn't trying to look presentable anymore. Just, you know, reduce the crop from shaggy to a little shorter with scissors and a mirror. I liked going to Gabby's barber shop in Chicago, which was an old-fashioned barber shop for yuppies and guppies (you know what a guppy is, don't you???) and Gabby would poke and stroke your head and I would come out looking like a little boy, but that was a long time ago. Maybe thanks to Gabby I looked super-sexy and that is why my wife fell for me? But as I say, once the vows were said, I did what all men do, which is revert to caveman.
Anyway, the missus has an appt. this morning at 9:30 at the Hairy Canary, which looks uncannily like Gabby's barber shop in Chicago, for a cut or trim or whatever. She can't make it, because of a daylong class she had forgotten about. Can't cancel, so guess who gets a hair cut? Moi.