Wednesday, July 8, 2009

For six dollars, he'll light your ears on fire.

This entire deployment, I've cut my own hair. My dad always cut my hair growing up, and it just seemed like what we do in our family. It saves money, and the only person I can be mad at in the end is myself. I do a better job than them anyway. I just take my razor into the bathroom and go to town.

Well, I sent my razor home, and it came time for me to get a hair cut, so I ventured out into the wild yonder, and found a little Turkish barber shop on post. What a wild experience. Maybe they do this at all Barber shops. I guess I can't really say, because I never go, but here's what happened.

First I sat down, and in barber speak mixed with TurkEnglish, I got the point across that I want it short on the sides and a two on the top. That's what I always do. And it works out pretty well in the sweltering heat here. Well, he buzzes a neat line with his trimmer all the way around my head. Then he pulled out an old-school horror-flick razor to take it all the way down to the skin. Well... that sure was neat, and an exercise in faith.

Then he cuts the rest like normal, gradually buzzing from nothing to next to nothing to the two on the top. He does a nice job, and when he's don,e he coats me with lemon-smelling aftershave... actually, I smell exactly like Pledge-- the stuff you dust wood furniture with. He then grabs the my jaw and the back of my head, and before I know what's going on, he yanks and cracks my neck. I thought I was murdered right there, and wondered why he didn't just use the razor blade. He goes to grab my head and jaw on the other side to even me out, and I say... uhh... no thanks.

Next he dunks a cotton swab into alcohol and lights in on fire. Then he flicks in on my ears to remove the peach fuzz... I'm not sure what that's all about. Was the peach fuzz really that unattractive? I mean... I've seen some gues with some craaaaaazy ear hair, but I was never self-conscious about mine... until now.

I get done, and ask him how much it costs. Six dollars, sir. Well, I guess it's not so bad to pay six dollars for a story.

6 comments:

abb said...

I can't believe you let him but a flaming cotton ball in your ear. That flips me out.

Jules said...

OMG! I wouldn't have let him touch me after the whole neck thing then you let him singe the ear hair? gross!

vipchaseB said...

I think my older brother did the whole set-your-ear-on-fire deal for me one time.

Except I didnt pay him and there was a lot of screaming involved.

Stephie said...

Ha ha. It's a good thing you have such a generous-sized point on the back of your head -- it probably made it easier for the guy to get a good grip on you.

beckyjoy said...

Bobby,
This was so funny! I couldn't stop laughing! While I was reading it I could actually hear your excitment in the story! Haha a flaming cotton ball!!!! I can't believe that! I have been meaning to tell you about your unattractive peach fuzz but oops someone beat me to it! Just kidding!!!

kari j said...

that, is, great. what a fantastic story. i would've even paid a bit more than 6 for this story :o)
k