dimanche 5 octobre 2008

Just shut up and cut.

It's been a funny old week. What with computers going wrong and being let down by Mexicans, being on the edge of a dose of man-flu and generally feeling that I'm not made for getting up and going to work every single day. It's not been the best, but hey.

So anyway, with all of this behind me, I approached the weekend with gusto - determined to enjoy myself and to forget the ridiculousness of the working week.

Friday is a half day for me, and my weekend starts at 12.30 every week. It's a great opportunity to run errands that have eluded me in the week, without losing my Saturday morning to them.

I got a couple of tasks out of the way - bank, post office - and then, in a bid to try and get all of my worst weekend chores over and done with in one swell foop, I decided to bite the bullet and go for a haircut.

I hate getting my hair cut. Normally it's something that I reserve for when I go back to the UK, and I can then go to the barber that I've been going to since I was a small boy. He knows not to talk too much, he knows how I like it cut, he's not expensive, he gets a good tip, everyone's happy.

Even though I'm going to the UK on Thursday, I know that while I'm there I won't have time for a haircut. I have a ridiculous schedule that is already double booked....lord. So, I needed to find a hairdresser.

I made a pact with myself that I would walk into the first one that did men's cuts. I wouldn't hesitate. I wouldn't think 'there'll be a better one in a few metres'. I wouldn't 'not like the look' of the barber. I would just go in and get it cut.

So, I do this.

And this is how I find myself sat in the chair of Chatty McChatty and his wife Talky McTalky.

Shit, these people could talk. And the shit they could talk too. At one point I thought my ears were bleeding from the constant chatter, but it just turned out to be a slight nick with the scissors. That's how bad it was.

And the chatter went on and on. At one point, he left me in the chair, went and put the kettle on and made himself and wifey a cup of coffee. And all this time he didn't stop talking at me.

The main topic of conversation was the fact that I am German. I'm not German, naturlich, but no amount of protesting on my part would convince them otherwise.

"You're are German, no?" was his opening gambit.

"No, English. I'm English".

"He says he's English" said chatty to his wife.

"Mais non, il est allemand. Without any question" said the wife.

"Truly, I am English" I protested.

"You speak with a German accent"

"I can speak with a German accent if you want, but it's not my usual speaking voice. I am English, you see".

"Well, I don't believe you. To me, you are German".

And the interactive part of the conversation ended there. For the rest of the haircut, he and his wife talked at me about the places in Germany that they had visited and how much they loved cruising the Rhine.

Apparently, Munich held fond memories for them too, as did the Bodensee. They had visited the Volkswagen plant in Wolfsburg and been charmed by the efficiency, and they had eaten curry wurst on the Rieperbahn and admired the hookers.

"The German hookers are very beautiful. You are a very lucky man to have the choice of so many beautiful German women" the wife said to me.

I feared any conversation with them that was based on my denying having an interest in Hamburg hookers would tip me over the edge.

I sat. I closed my eyes. I waited for it to end.

And finally the ordeal was over. I thanked Chatty and Talky, paid and headed to the door.

"You won't get a cut like that in Berlin", Chatty shouted after me.

"Bis spater! Und danke schon!" Shouted his wife.

God help me. I needed a drink.

20 commentaires:

alan a dit…

I feel your pain; both chatty and nicked ear pain. I break out in a sweat every time it's time for a haircut. It took me two years to find a barber in this damn city that I now live in... and I'm still not sure if I'm fully happy with my choice.

Breezy a dit…

Yes but how is your hair?

I have to admit that while I'm here I'm planning on going to the hairdresser who has been cutting my hair on and off forever and who will give me a hair style that suits my hair and face without me having to do more than give a general indication of the length required and who won't ask me where I'm going on holiday, what my plans for Christmas are etc etc

aims a dit…

The right hairdresser. OMG! It's like finding the right marital partner.

I feel your pain - although I would like to see the Volkswagen plant - The Man loves VW's...only thing he'll drive - and - he has some German heritage - although that's not why the VW.

aims a dit…

btw - doesn't Breezy's friend Debra cut hair?

Daryl a dit…

How did that haircut look ...

I love the woman who cuts my hair, she's been doing it for almost 10 yrs ... in fact she cut it yesterday .. I hope you love your new cut ..


Breezy a dit…

Aims yes she is and very good too but hasn't had over 20 years of experience cutting my hair

travelling, but not in love a dit…

Alan, I just dislike the whole process. Every time it makes me think 'this is an hour of my life I'll never get back'. Although generally I like the results....

Breezy, he did give me a great cut (in my humble opinion). But then, it's so short that it'd be hard to do badly....

travelling, but not in love a dit…

Aims, apparently the VW plant at Wolfsburg is something to be seen too...I wouldn't turn down a visit!

travelling, but not in love a dit…

Daryl, I like my new cut. But it's much like the one before, and the one before, and the one before....

The big difference is that french barbers interpretate 'short' differently to english ones. I always end up with it being much shorter here than if a brit cut it. But I'm happy about that - it means I don't have to go back for longer!

A Lewis a dit…

I can cut your hair for you. Let me have a bottle of Pinot Gris first.

travelling, but not in love a dit…

Lewis...of course you can cut my hair when you've had a drink. I'd love to have a slanty fringe and bong-eyed bangs (as you americans call em). I'll let you know when I next need my barnet tending to. ;-)

Stew a dit…

I have never, NEVER come across a chatty hairdresser.

For this reason I dread haircuts. everyone goes on about chatty hairdressers, while, I do my best to engage them in conversation, it invariably tails off in to a painful silences with only the click click of the scissors. I have thus deduced it is me and I am a crashing bore. Such a bore that I can even kill the repartee of hairdressers.
And so I dread having to go and inflict my stultifying persona upon their salons.
I had a haircut last Tuesday, preparation for a job interview Thursday that didn't come off.
Tant pis....

travelling, but not in love a dit…

Hey Stew - maybe the spiral perm was a bit much for the interview?

Daisy a dit…

Just found your blog, very happy I have too. This is hilarious, although it still sounds marginally better than the Turkish place my husband insists on going to, where they use tapers to burn the hairs out of his nose and ears...

travelling, but not in love a dit…

Hi daisy...welcome!

The turkish place sounds good - I was wondering what to do about nose hair. Not.

Anonyme a dit…

It's hard to find a good hair dresser! When I moved to Rotterdam I took my time choosing one, and first ended up in a place where the hair dresser kept moaning that my hair wasn't in good condition and it was obviously due to the type of elastic bands I use to tie my hair with (always use hair clips thank you very much) and oh what a mess my hair was. So I never went back. The hair dresser I now go to is very friendly, quick and efficient and told me I have very healthy hair. So I keep coming back.

travelling, but not in love a dit…

Hi Marjolein

That's a bit Dutch of the old hairdresser, no?

To insult someone in a very practical, factual kind of way....and then be surprised that someone took it to heart. To me that's a real Dutch thing.

Not trying to be nasty to dutch folk (who I like a lot) but it has happened to me on soooo many occasions in Holland....

Louise a dit…

They should provide alcohol for their customers at a place like that. I actually don't mind a chatty hairdresser as long as they can carry on a conversation with themselves and not expect anything verbal out of me.

Glad you got a good cut. That would have really been the worst had it not been good.

travelling, but not in love a dit…

Louise, it all puts me in mind of a great classic joke.

Hairdresser to man "how would you like your hair cut today sir?"

Man to hairdresser "In silence"

hee hee

Louise a dit…

LOVE the joke. It got a guffaw out of me! It is SOO me!