Oh Lord – look at this wife!

TRUE STORY

It was the grandbaby’s first day of pre-K at the church school. Sharon and I dropped them off early, and after a long summer, it was clear her hair had grown out quite a bit. She definitely had a little extra pep in her step. One thing that stood out from last year was the group of volunteers at the church—some really attractive older women with super long hair, who seemed to run the place. As someone who’s lost interest in sex, I still enjoy walking in and chatting with these ladies—they’re super nice. I know one of them is divorced and on the lookout.

This morning, we kissed the grandkids goodbye around 8 AM. Since we were early, we planned to pick them up around noon. I figured it was a great time to swing by my favorite Hispanic barbershop for a quick haircut. They didn’t open until 10, so we had some time to kill. At about 9:40, we pulled into the parking lot. The barbershop is nestled in a corner and usually pretty slow, so I aimed to get there right at 10.

When we walked in, the mother, Anna, who often cuts my hair greeted me and pointed to a chair. She’s cut my hair many times before, and I appreciate how she takes her time, meticulously using the big Oster 76s. She’s super detailed, super nice, and we always enjoy our conversations because her English is very good. Her daughter, on the other hand—the shop’s owner—is a whole different story. She cut my hair the first time I visited years ago, but I’ve avoided her since. She’s brutal, rarely talks, and doesn’t speak much English. She’s always on her phone and doesn’t take her time. Some reviews even say she’s cheated on her husband and manipulates customers for money. She dresses a bit provocatively, with long, thick black hair, and while she’s attractive, she’s also quite the bitch.

As Sharon and I walked in, I could tell she was on edge, probably wondering why I’d invited her to the barbershop. We sat down, and I started getting my haircut. Just then, Amelia, the daughter and shop owner, walked in with a sour expression, put down her purse, and tidied up a chair. I pointed at the chair as Sharon looked up, the look she gave me was priceless—she knew the drill. She strutted over in her high heels and sat down. I told the lady cutting my hair that Sharon was getting the same cut: a high and tight, with triple zero on the sides and a strip on top. Whispering, I asked her to explain to her daughter what Sharon was getting and she did. It was in Spanish, so I suppose only I knew kinda what was going on here!

The next 20 minutes were brutal. The bitch caped Sharon and I watched as my wife was absolutely sheared like a sheep. Hair fell everywhere, and I could tell the bitch was enjoying every moment. I suppose she had learned her skills from her mother, as she two used the massive loud Oster 76 clippers as well. Dead silence in the salon, the only sound was the humming of the clippers. Sharon was in tears, but the brutality continued. As her hair dropped to the cape, she looked down, tears falling from her eyes. When she looked up, tiny bristles of hair stuck to her makeup, revealing nothing but white scalp. The barber moved on to the top, and soon, the landing strip was shining. The funny thing is, she finished Sharon’s cut before mine and as Sharon walked from the chair, I could see little chards of hair all over white polo shirt. There were even patches of hair still stuck to her neck and temple. A brutal haircut for sure. It was like a Mexican standoff – Sharon for all her misgivings, was a lady through and through. Make up always on point, dressed to kill, and commanded the room when she walked in. The bitchy barber seemed to be the same , like a “my shit doesn’t stink” kind of gal. So when I say I was the joy she took in taking my lady boy short, I mean it.  Sharon walked over and sat in the waiting room, completely scalped, looking down at her phone. I texted her to post her new haircut on Facebook – and add the following caption.

• New cut, new school year! Love the whitewalls and of course, the flat landing strip on top. Anyone looking for a nice back to school haircut, Salon de Anna’ is your spot. Just remember to drop that head when you hear the clippers fire up!

When we went to pick up the grandkids from the church preschool later that afternoon, we both walked into the classroom. The ladies who run the facility looked up and saw a very different-looking couple than the ones who had dropped the kids off that morning. I thought my haircut looked sharp—tight and military-style—and Sharon’s was the same. She strutted in, and I overheard one of the ladies whisper, “Oh Lord, look at his wife!”

+24