Friday 26 February 2010

Barberian II

I've just got back from my first trip to a barber without glasses (me without glasses, not the barber). I'd forgotten how scary it was to see a haircut halfway through. I used to just sit and watch the blurred colours and shapes until my glasses were given back for me to approve that which, by that point, I'd no other choice but to approve. This time, however, I could see the full progress. Internal conversations went from "that's a bit short" to "can you put the phone down and focus?" to "WHAT THE FUCK HAVE YOU DONE?!??!" to "Oh I see, that's clever".

I went back to Ahmet, my teenage barber with the face of an olive-skinned Spike Lee (go figure) and the voice of a chain smoking octogenarian. He wasn't his usual self today though. His coiffurial performance was somewhat lackluster. Conversationally, however, he was considerably cruder than normal.

The topic of the day was how he'd spent the previous weekend sodomising his girlfriend to near paraplegia. "She couldn't walk for a week" he boasted with a rasp. Congratulations. Why don't you break her arms as well? "You have to give them a healthy fuck otherwise they'll cheat. Do you ever fuck them so hard that you start hitting them?", can't say I have but it's nice to know I'm in safe hands as you wave that razor around my jugular.

I tried to fake sleep but he'd just lean in a whisper bad things in my ear. To be perfectly honest, I was happy when we reached the final geling (though he spent a couple of minutes describing how to use hair gel as a lubricant - complete with gesticulation).

I will be monitoring Ahmet's social decline carefully. It may be time to seek another barber.

4 comments:

Lyndsey said...

Just realised I have a sick sense of humour. Thanks!

Nomad said...

The Pervy Barber!!? I have not come across one of those yet. Have you encountered the "Arc of Service" phenomena in Turkey? Here's my take on it.
First time you go to a corner bar or a barber, they are quite cold. You look around and the staff are laughing and whooping it up like it was a big hoe-down or something. The second time you come.. they remember some details about you. The next times, the service gets better and better and you think,"Gosh, this is like heaven. Why didn't come here every time."

And then, somebody takes a liberty or somebody crosses a line. A bit too touchy or a story that seems a little disturbing. Or they give you a crappy seat at the bar. The waiter serves a couple of other people who came after you.

And then the last time you go there, they ignore you. They don't do it intentionally but you feel like they couldn't care less if you were there or not.
This has happened to me so many times I cannot begin to count.

Salty Miss Jill said...

Oh, that randy Ahmet. Do keep us posted.

Anonymous said...

fffffunny!