Lee's Barber Shop
I went to the barber today. Lee's Barber Shop. Been there for 39 years. Lee's gotta be over 80. Hunches over from all those years of cutting hair. His ex-wife was named Holly Wood, before she married Lee. Anyway, Lee's got a single maroon, vinyl barber chair in the shop and an old twirly barber pole out front that doesn't twirl anymore. Inside, dozens of dusty model airplanes hang from the ceiling and old, metal miniature cars line the shelves. There's a black-and-white sign on the wall with illustrations of all the hair cuts of the day: flat top, butch cut, crew cut, fade ...
"That sign's from the 40s," Lee says, "All these wetbacks come in here, can't speak English, so I put that up there so all they have to do is point."
Over in an unlit sort of alcove, bills from around the world are tacked up on the wall.
"There's two Hussein bills up there," Lee says. "You know, Hussein. He's a dictator from Iraq. Guys like you started givin' me those things 29 years ago. These boys come back from the war over there and gave the Hussein bills to me. This redneck comes in one day and says, 'Why don't you sell me those Hussein bills' and I say 'Hell No.' They're worth a hundred bucks each. I don't care if the guy offered my a thousand bucks, I'd have to be the biggest asshole in town to sell those things."
Lee gave me a crooked haircut.
"How much do I owe you, Lee?"
"Thirteen bucks, guy. How's that sound?"
"Sounds good. Here. Just gimme five back."
"That sign's from the 40s," Lee says, "All these wetbacks come in here, can't speak English, so I put that up there so all they have to do is point."
Over in an unlit sort of alcove, bills from around the world are tacked up on the wall.
"There's two Hussein bills up there," Lee says. "You know, Hussein. He's a dictator from Iraq. Guys like you started givin' me those things 29 years ago. These boys come back from the war over there and gave the Hussein bills to me. This redneck comes in one day and says, 'Why don't you sell me those Hussein bills' and I say 'Hell No.' They're worth a hundred bucks each. I don't care if the guy offered my a thousand bucks, I'd have to be the biggest asshole in town to sell those things."
Lee gave me a crooked haircut.
"How much do I owe you, Lee?"
"Thirteen bucks, guy. How's that sound?"
"Sounds good. Here. Just gimme five back."
posted by Travelburro at 3:02 PM
6 Comments:
Lee's gone blind. That's hilarious. Ask Tom K which barber he goes to in Gilroy. he's always got stories and is cheap. He'll fix you up.
AP
you didn't shave your beard, did you??
I did. I let it get huge, and then I whacked it.
dood... you're bloggin' again! i'll have to catch up with the latest burro news, pics are lookikng good. r u really moving to portland?!
peas,
goyo
that's the plan. Not the Plan with a capital p, but the plan.
OK - you need a new posting. I look at your blog twice a day and both times am stared down by the Impenetrable girl.
A.P.
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