I hate when programs change that have been working just fine – but apparently WordPress has done something so that I can no longer upload pictures. So after I went from computer to computer and nothing worked, I had a complete nervous breakdown and
smashed every computer to bits called wordpress headquarters with a bomb threat told Mr. Gaga I wanted a divorce
realized the problem wouldn’t be resolved tonight – I am just hoping that you can click on the links for pictures or …….
Use your imagination????
Anyways – when you shirk your parental duties from the last day of school until the first day of school, things can really get dicey.
I really meant to go out and do things that I needed to do.
It was just that each time I was going to head out and run some errands to get school supplies or clothes, or bring the child to necessary doctor appointments, I never was able to make it because it was just so…..
On the day before school started I finally decided to make a to-do list and start getting organized.
On the top of the list was to get haircuts for both boys. Their hair had grown out into bleached shaggy haircuts appropriate for beach bums but not really for school.
And you know how I feel about parents who don’t get their children’s hairs cut.
“No!” both boys moaned. “We don’t want hair cuts! We are growing out our hair…”
“Not on my watch you aren’t.” I stood firm.
Sam would not be easily swayed – as he is obsessed with his hair and his tan. He spends hours looking at himself in the mirror combing his hair into different styles and his tan is a top priority and he is possibly the tannest 7 year-old you will ever lay eyes on.
I thought that I should actually show you so you can understand how tan he is, so I went into his room before bed and had him just pull down his shorts a tiny bit to show the line between white and almost black skin. Just when Sam was peeling down his shorts and I was about to click the camera – Mr. Gaga came into the room and accused me of being a child pornographer and it got very weird and uncomfortable so I found an old picture of him playing on the beach that kind of shows what I am talking about…
I recently had seen a very young cool acquaintance and he had longer hair on the top and shaved on the sides with stars and crazy designs. I had asked him where he got his hair done and he gave me the address where his cousin worked, a barber that was very talented at hair design.
I knew that Sam had wanted to have lines in the side of his hair during the World Cup like many of the soccer players, so I lured him into agreeing to a haircut by telling him I would bring him to this hair salon where the barber knew how to create a line on the side of his head.
Normally we go to a kid’s haircutting place where the stylists in no uncertain terms could not be trusted to do anything but a buzz cut.
He excitedly agreed to go first thing Tuesday morning and Michael indifferently said he would come too.
Come to find out the salon didn’t take appointments.
I planned on going first thing when the door opened at 9:30 in the morning and then proceeding with the 500 other places I needed to go after that.
The place was about twenty minutes away and my acquaintance had said when he told me the address that it was behind the “7-11.” That didn’t make sense to me – but what do you know it was in a little building behind the “7-11” and it was called “Upscale Cutz.”
That little “z” in “cuts” should have been a warning. But I was determined to get these kids a cool haircut and I paid the grammatically incorrect sign no mind.
When we entered the door we had clearly traveled into a new uncharted territory.
The place was filled with men and teenage boys. There was a movie playing on a tv screen on the wall and there were a bunch of kids playing video games. I stood just inside the door with both boys next to me. I kept my sunglasses on and stared at everyone from behind the safety of the dark lenses. They stared back at me.
This was clearly not “Snip-Its.”
We had crossed over completely into the world of the “barber shop.”
“Can I help you?” said the one barber while he was buzzing someone’s head. He was an extremely large man with quite possibly the largest camoflague shorts on I have ever seen and his feet where in what I refer to in my household as “shower shoes.”
“Um…they need haircuts.” I said gesturing to the two boys.
“Ok – well all of these people are before you.” he said nodding his head towards the 15 men that were already waiting. “It’s going to be awhile.”
I watched as he shaved the guy’s head and did some quick math and thought he would be able to be done quick enough and it would be worth it to have a cool back to school haircut.
It was 9:30 – even if we were out by like 10:30 or 11:00, I could still get everything done that I needed to.
We made ourselves as comfortable as we could while sitting on a folding chairs and waited and watched the show.
I soon realized that there were in fact even more people than I had originally calculated, and they apparently didn’t even want their hair cut. They seemed to be just there for fun. The men cracked jokes and talked about sports while we waited.
Angry mothers came in several times, speaking Spanish, but I think they were asking how long for a haircut for their kids, and stormed out cursing out the barber.
One woman spoke to the barber in Spanish and then on the way out screamed in plain English, “I’m done with this fucking bullshit.” before pushing through the door and PEELING OUT of the parking lot.
I caught a glimpse of Michael during this little interaction. This is what he looked like:
I started to get antsy and looked at the clock, it was 10:30 and we were nowhere near being next.
I had already invested an hour, I would stay a bit longer, I decided.
Next thing we know, a man comes in who was either possessed by the devil or had done so much drugs that he had turned into a zombie.
He walked stiffly, seemingly in some sort of trance as he pushed the door open.
He came barging in staring straight ahead at his reflection in the mirror and was making the sign of the cross repeatedly. He was holding a “Table Talk” pie and sometimes he would stop making the sign of the cross and he would look at his pie wide-eyed in horror. He was dripping with sweat.
I clutched the kids.
Everyone was afraid. Finally the barber asked him if he was alright. The guy didn’t answer. By the fifth time the barber asked – he announced he was waiting for a haircut. He turned to look at the room for a seat and of course the only seat in the whole place was right next to Sam.
I was horrified as he looked at the chair and then looked at us.
As he came lumbering over, I ripped Sam up from the chair and told him to flee to the other side of the room. I was brave and stayed put, one seat safely between us.
The zombie took his blueberry Table Talk pie and began shoving it in his face ravenously, making strange noises and rubbing blueberries all over his mouth.
I had to get up and run to the other side of the room. I felt sick to my stomach, it was hot and now I couldn’t even sit down.
Thankfully after about 20 minutes, he got up threw the box in the garbage and left.
The whole place breathed a sigh of relief.
I sat back in my chair. “Now Sam,” I whispered. “When you get your turn you need to tell him that you want it to just be trimmed on top and a line on the side.”
“I know.” he answered.
Every few minutes I would check in with him and see if he had changed his mind. “What are you going to ask him to do?” I would ask in a hushed voice.
“Just one line or zigzag on the side.” he would whisper back.
At 12:30!!! it was Michael’s turn. He was not interested in any design so he got his regular haircut and Sam was up.
“Don’t forget what to say,” I whispered in his ear as we approached the barber chair.
He nodded his head up and down seriously as he hopped into the chair.
He looked nervously up at the barber and didn’t speak.
I jumped in and described the haircut we had discussed.
“So we were thinking just like one line on the side…” I said sweetly.
The barber kind of listened to me but was focused on Sam.
“You want me to do a freestyle design for you brother?” the barber asked Sam- “man-to man.”
Sam stared back at him.
“Ok – I will just give you a freestyle.” the barber said as he cut his buzzer ready.
I stared at Sam’s eyeballs and tried to send him a message saying “THIS IS NOT WHAT WE PLANNED! WE NEVER DISCUSSED THE FREESTYLE!!” but he just shrugged.
Without sounding too wimpy I needed this freestyle business to be curbed a bit….
“Um…can we just do a small section of “freestyle?” I asked.
“Sure.” the barber shrugged.
I ran back to my chair, wondering what the fuck a “freestyle” haircut was.
Well here it is -a freestyle back to school haircut.
And there’s never been a happier customer. And after three long hours of torture and zombies eating pies this masterpiece cost me $5.
We will be back. For the price, the entertainment and for the sheer joy I will have telling the other Goopville moms that Sam got his haircut at “Upscale Cutz” when they surely will be wanting to know where their little angels can have such a fancy “freestyle” cut.
NOW IF IM NOT THE BEST MOTHER EVER – WAITING 3 HOURS!! FOR A FREESTYLE – THEN WHO IS????
CLICK THE BANNER PLEASE!!!! XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA