7.21.04- Gork was back today. He said, "Zizziz zweepin' wedder!" I asked, "Huh?!" So he said again, "Zizziz zweepin' wedder! Zizzizot!"
   Hmm.....

   Another man was in and asked, "Can you believe it's already July?" This sort of threw me since we're twenty one days into the month already.
   Realizing that people usually just want to make conversation and don't take well to being made to feel stupid, I decided to make him feel very smart by asking a return question guaranteed not to be offensive: "It's July already?"

7.22.04- Wow! What a day! There was a man here that guards the psychiatric center and he says that they go to great lengths to keep a "pioneer in UFO studies" quiet about his knowledge regarding UFOs and what the patient describes as the governments' involvement in covering up UFO sightings. The guard said that this patient is locked up there for threatening to kill senators or something like that because of their involvement in these cover-ups.
   When asked if he feels the man is crazy, the guard's reply was, "Hell no!".
   Hmm...

   Another man came in that I'll call Arnold. Arnold suffered from a nervous breakdown a number of years ago. He was a warehouse manager and said that his co-workers caused him to have a breakdown. He told me that he has been taking a nerve drug that sounds like prolixin for almost twenty years.
   Arnold now works a regular full time job "placing two earplugs in one container", to quote his own words. He says he will get a full pension from the warehouse that he formerly worked at very soon.
   Arnold told me that he took today off to walk around town and enjoy the weather that happened to be about 92 degrees with 100 percent humidity.
   For some reason, Arnold was wearing a coat and hat on this hot, muggy day. This caused his hair to be strangely matted with sweat and stuck to his head. On top of that, he doesn't know or doesn't remember what deodorant is.
   When Arnold was putting on his coat and hat, he said goodbye to me at least ten different ways, ranging from "Goodbye" to "Don't take any wooden nickels", with "Try to stay out of trouble" somewhere in between.
   Despite all of this, Arnold is a great customer. He comes in every three months and always leaves a tip. Since he won't be back until October, I can't complain.

   Another man came in and paid with a twenty. While handing me the money, he said, "Give me back nineteen.". I asked him if the prices went down without me knowing it. He apologized and assured me that he wasn't trying to cheat me. I don't know if I believe him or not. I'm leaning toward not.

   The theme of today's conversation with regular customers shifted to teenage pregnancies and what the schools are doing about it. I was told that they are handing out "morning after" abortion pills to the young girls without their parents prior consent.
   I'm thoroughly convinced that if the schools really wanted to stop teen pregnancies, they'd show videos of young girls changing dirty diapers and little kids running around Wal*Mart pulling items off the shelves, rather than a cute young girl in her early twenties cuddling a cute little baby that she just had. After years of changing diapers on dolls and make believe feeding them bottles and stuff, what young girl wouldn't want to have a cute little baby? When you never heard of sex education, you hardly ever heard of teen pregnancies either.

7.23.04- An eviction letter came in the mail today. The apartment was sold and the new owners need the apartment for a family member. A half hour later, after speaking with a customer, I had a new place lined up to move into.
   Seeing it in person, the place is basically a wreck. Supposedly, it will be like brand new in three weeks, right when I'll be moving in. We'll see.

7.24.04- Another barber was on vacation today. All these people that haven't been in for a year and a half decided to show up. Some got turned away. I hate to admit that it was fun turning them away.
   One person is only capable of just so much. To go beyond that would be stretching the boundaries of sanity. People think you're a machine, destined to stand there and wait a year and a half for them. No wonder the psyche centers are turning the people loose on the streets. They're full to capacity with people that are rudely awakened to the fact that we are not standing there waiting for them so that we can cut their precious hair.

7.25.04- I really don't understand why everyone is so worried about terror all the time. People really need to just chill. Tobacco related illness kills one thousand, two hundred people a day. When was the last time you heard "Tobacco Alert 'HIGH'"?

7.26.04- I still can't figure out why people are so afraid of terrorism. I'm more worried that nudists everywhere will unite and hold demonstrations declaring that the laws that force people to wear clothes are unconstitutional. Men wearing sandals are bad enough. I can see the headlines now: "Nude Marriages". Or, how about this: "Mayor Marries Nude, Gay Couple"?

7.27.04- Having to move can be a trial. In this case, the trial comes with a twenty seven percent rent increase. There will be a decrease in the electric bill, however. The heat will be offset by the new landlord. The ride to work has been cut in half too. So, it's a fairly relevant transition that is occuring.
   The real surprise was found out yesterday. All the other tenants at the old place received a thirty six percent rent increase. In the long run, this move will actually prove beneficial. Now, if only there could be a way to cut hair without having to deal with people.

   Today, a man walked in and said, "Slow day, huh?" I told him that to the average person, it would appear in the twenty-five seconds that he's been there that it's been slow all day long, considering that nobody else happened to be there at that particular twenty-five second span of time. But, to a highly open mind, it would be surmised that the possibility that it has been extremely busy all day long, up until twenty-five seconds ago could be a very real possibility too. Then, I explained that all the hair around the chair would give an observant individual a very large clue that the possibility of being busy all day long, until twenty five seconds ago, would be more than likely the case.
   Explaining all that to the broom would have probably been better.

7.28.04- More and more people are showing up from three other shops that are all closed this week. Of course, turning away the ones that haven't been here before or haven't been here for over a year has been quite fun.
   I've been telling them to come back next week. I've even explained to them that other barbers in town have all gone on vacation this week and that I'm only taking the customers that have been coming in regularly. They get mad, but I really don't care. They need to be conditioned like dogs.
   If someone decides to go to a new shop, he should do it because he wants to, not because he has to when his regular barber is on vacation. When he has to because of that reason, there are fifty other people a day that have to as well, so everybody ends up getting turned away.

7.29.04- If anybody in this business wants a customer to walk in, they should take something out to eat or begin a similar project. Someone will walk in right at that moment, guaranteed. Today has been no exception.
   Since some of these people haven't been here in over a year because of going to one of the other barbers that went on vacation this week, having them sit here for ten or fifteen minutes or until one of the regular customers shows up is not unusual under this week's extenuating circumstances. Some people may think this is not a good business practice, but it is. People in today's world think everything should be given to them instantly; drive thru tellers; instant cash machines; instant oatmeal; fast food; microwave ovens, among many other instant things. That's not the case here. I have to wait for them a year to decide to come back here, so now they have to wait for me.
   Some of these people get upset if you tell them you have to go to the bathroom. They pretend like they're in a big, heated rush.
   Once, this guy said he was in a hurry. I told him to come back when he had time. He stormed out as fast as he walked in. I guess he thought he was at a drive thru barbershop.

   It's always amazing that there are people out there that will try to rush a person whose business is done with a straight razor.

7.30.04- I had a dream this morning that keeps sticking in my mind. In the dream, there was a little boy that was riding his bicycle to or from a Little League baseball game. His uniform was advertising an Irish bar.
   The uniform was light green with a dark green shamrock and a leprechaun holding a beer mug along with a number of the player and the name of the bar and the team.
   The little boy was African American.

   Today, a man and woman came in wanting the man to be shaved. They were both talking at the same time with some kind of strange accent. I suspect that they may have been terrorists. I explained that I'm not taking new customers until next week when all the barbers in town are back from vacation and that I'm reserving my time for regular customers only. This is a fair practice so the regular customers don't have to wait forty-five minutes because of some other shops in town being closed due to the owner not being able to trust his help and allow them to run the business while they all take turns going on vacation. He knows they'd rob him blind while he was gone.
   The man's wife pleadingly appealed in favor of her husband not being able to shave himself because he just had surgery on his shoulder. The man took off his jacket to show the sling his arm was in.
   So, feeling bad for him, I changed my mind and told the man that I'd shave him. That was a mistake, as I soon found out.
   As the man was getting into the chair, he said, "Just touch the hair also", pointing to his head. He was saying he wanted a haircut, but was trying to downsize the work by explaining it as a simple little task. There's nothing simple about cutting hair. If it was that simple, he could cut it himself. So I walked over and poked him in the head and said, "There, I touched your hair."
   The man's wife smiled like a sycophant and said, "No, no no! He wants his hair cut too. Can you also wash it?"
   I wanted to throw both of these people out right then and there, but I didn't. I told the woman the only thing he was getting was his haircut and a shave, and then they were going to leave.
   As I was getting the man ready for the shave, I put the chair back and put a hot towel on his face to soften the beard. He objected, claiming the chair being put back hurt his shoulder. So, I had to compromise the angle of the chair to alleviate his pain, yet have it back far enough so the towel would stay on his face.
   The man then asked that I shave him with the chair in the upright position. What this caused was equivalent to having to learn to shave all over again. Every angle that would normally be applied with the razor to the face had to be done differently, resulting in much danger and aggravation. To top it off, his wife kept asking me questions that I'm sure had no important value to herself whatsoever, but were being asked to show some kind of make believe interest in this profession that almost resulted in a huge gash on her husband's face.
   When the man was done, his wife asked if they could come back in two days for another shave. I advised both of them to buy an electric razor and have her shave him instead. I then told the man that he didn't have to bring his wife next time and should leave her home. I hope he got the point.

7.31.04- Many people got sent away today. They left scratching their heads. It was actually quite funny watching them try to figure out who they should blame because they couldn't find anyone to cut their hair. If they showed a little loyalty to their regular barber and waited for that one to return from vacation, they wouldn't have this problem.

   Papa Smurf, from 6.29.04 was back today. As he babbled about the weather, I looked precariously around for Mama Smurf. I couldn't stand the thought of that stuff she thinks is perfume ruining this wonderful day, so I put it in high gear.
   Not wasting any time, I had Papa Smurf done before he could get a response about the weather. He said, "Wow! That was fast!" I nodded and smiled and moved my lips like I said something too. He nodded and smiled back. Then, he paid and left.
   Smiling to myself, I realized that I finally got Papa Smurf done before Mama Smurf could come in and smell up everything with that five dollar a gallon, South Of The Border, cheap perfume, I was content that someone was smiling down on me, knowing how much I couldn't stand that cheap perfume.
   Yes, now I was able to go read the paper or play on the computer and take a break for several minutes with complete confidence that things were finally turning around here; on a Saturday, no less, with only an hour left to go!
   Yes, what a great thing, being able to control everything that happens and to take who I want and refuse who I want. Things sure do turn out pretty good some days - but today wasn't one of those days.
   No sooner did I sit down in back to read the paper, when the door opened up. It was Mama Smurf, looking for her husband.
   "He's done!", I yelled, due to the fact that Mama Smurf is also deaf like her husband and I was trying to get her out ASAP because of that nasty smell that always comes in with her. Of course, she didn't hear me. "He's done! He's gone! He left! He split!" Nope. She still couldn't hear me.
   Motioning frantically with my hand to the left several times, and saying, "He flew the coop!", Mama Smurf finally got the point. By then, it was too late. Smiling with what appeared to be caution, so as to not crack her paint by numbers face, she left. Sheeeesh!
   Next time the door is going to be locked.

8.01.04- [flashback] One time, while working in a mall shop, the store manager reported that the parents of a kid that had come in complained that I wasn't "polite" to the child. From that day forward, I would tell every parent of every kid that came in to go to Wally World and buy a home clipper set and save a ton of money doing the haircut themselves. I would also tell them that the other shop in the mall loved kids and had toys and candy and all kinds of cool stuff there for kids.

8.02.04- [reflection] Looking around this apartment, I've concluded that there really are no fond memories attached to it, so I'll take that as a sign that the next place will be new and vibrant, with exciting experiences awaiting.
   Yes, leaving these termites will not be heart wrenching at all. The noisy, drunk college students with their keg parties and cigars upstairs will have to be woken up at 5:30 AM by the "family member" of the new owners that's taking this place over.
   There will be no more notes on my door from the old lady across the hall, telling me all the latest information that she felt was vital for me to know, like the next time the landscape dudes were coming to mow the grass, or trim the hedges, or that there was grass growing under my canoe. The less essential things like rent increases or the apartments being sold to new owners and stuff like that were not necessary for her to post notes on my door about.
   Come to think of it, there'll be no more old ladies across the hall, period. There won't even be an "across the hall" in the new place.
   Yes, this place won't be missed.

8.03.04- It's always amazing when there are three people waiting outside as soon as it's time to open. The funny thing is that two out of the three will usually sit there waiting for the first one to get done and will just stare into space. There are over one hundred magazines and the most recent newspaper available, yet they will just sit there and stare blankly at the floor or into space. I wonder how many of them don't know how to read?
   If I couldn't read and was the one waiting, I'd at least look at the pictures hoping other people would think I was reading.

8.09.04- [reflection] There once was this man named John, who today would be in his mid-seventies, that would come into one of the shops I used to work in. He was on a medication called Thorazine. For anyone that doesn't know, Thorazine is powerful stuff. Taking it is equivalent to having part of your brain removed.
   John was an interesting character, regardless of whatever medication he was on. For some strange reason, he always thought that I was a lawyer. He said that I dressed more like a lawyer than a barber.
   According to John, he had at one time worked for the Air Force as a graphic designer. He told me that his main job was to design aircrafts.
   Not understanding how someone that once was intelligent enough to work for the Air Force as a graphic designer could now be almost a zombie caused me to want to know more. After further inquiry, what John told me next was quite an unusual tale:

   According to John, many years ago he was showed a "captured UFO" kept at a military base somewhere and was told to make a prototype of it. So I asked him if he did. He said, "No! I couldn't do it! They told me not to tell anyone about it, but I did!"
   I asked John who he told about this other than me. He told me that he had told his mother many years ago when he wasn't supposed to. He said, "The Air Force men were mad at me and yelling at me and told me I wasn't supposed to tell anyone, so now I have to take this medicine."

   One of the last conversations that I had with John was about aliens. He told me that he wasn't worried about them because he always kept his doors and windows locked. I informed him (motioning to the wall) that it's been reported that aliens can walk right through walls. Looking me directly in the eyes for the first time (and last time), with a startled look that even Thorazine could not control, his quite sober, one-worded response was simply, "What?!"

8.10.04- Today, this little Napoleon looking individual came in to a completely empty shop and said, "Question!" I hate when they say that.
   So, I said, "Yes?"
   Napoleon asked, "Can I make an appointment for a shave and a haircut?"
   I answered, "No, I only take walk-ins."
   Napoleon turned to walk out, looking constipated. So, I stopped him to show him the sign that says, "Just Walk In", so he would know that I do the same thing with everyone, and that he shouldn't take it personally. He turned to walk out again, apparently less than pleased. So, this time, I said, "Hold on."
   After stopping him dead in his self inflated tracks, I told Napoleon that taking only walk-ins prevents people from feeling more important than what they actually are. At this point, I thought he was going to swallow his tongue.

   What happens in this business is that some people want to make appointments so they won't have to wait. They feel very important.
   The very same people always end up making you wait. Then, when they arrive, they have some ridiculous excuse that they were just in a meeting with the president or something equally idiotic. At some point during their short history at your shop, they will get a phone call from their wife or boyfriend and feel that it is necessary to put on an elaborate show of how important they are in order to mask how idiotic they really feel inside.
   So, rather than deal with these supercilious (literally Latin for high browed) individuals, it's better to only take walk-ins. This keeps the crowd humble and patient.
   Nine times out of ten, the high minded ones end up storming out anyway, mad that they were born with faces that could scare rats out of the deepest, darkest basement.
   I think these individuals are really closet cross dressers.

   Tonight, while riding home at dusk, there was an SUV stopped in the road with the hazard lights flashing. The speed zone was forty five miles per hour, and it was a two lane, "spaghetti" type country road.
   The vehicle was stopped on a right curve that was on the crest of a hill that had plenty of room on the shoulder to roll backward, off the road onto.
   Sensing an extreme emergency in progress and feeling quite heroic, I pulled up next to the huge SUV and put down my passenger side window to see if the person had a heart attack or something.
   So, I asked, "Would you like me to call someone? Are you okay?"
   It was a lady on a cell phone, and she sternly said, "No thanks. I'm fine." and quickly went back to her conversation.

   If I wanted to, I couldn't fabricate stuff more bizarre than these things that actually happen.

8.21.04- The man from 8.12.04 came back today. He wanted, of all things, a shave. I don't know why he loved it so much. It only took three minutes to do, and he could have done much better with one of those razors with four blades himself. I personally would never come back, but that's me.

8.31.04- It's "back to school" time here today. An interesting phenomenon occurs annually. Every stumblebum that hasn't been in for a year or so shows up. It's the same old story - other shops are quite busy with kids, so the overflow shows up here. Well, it's busy enough here already. Go somewhere else.

   Something funny happened at lunchtime. A man that feels he's too important to tip the barber showed up to find the door locked. He looked in the window and motioned with his hands to signify that he's more important than lunch. I waved to him.

9.04.04- I finally beat Mama Smurf! She sat out in the car for exactly three minutes! She never had a chance to come in and govern how much Papa Smurf paid. He doesn't tip anyway, thanks to the wonderful training from his wife, so there was no conscience in only taking three minutes to cut his hair.

   Another man that never tipped a barber in his life, with hair like Meathead Stivic from All In The Family, came in for the first time in about three years, on account of the place he's been going being too busy because of rugrats going back to school, wanting a haircut like Ricky Ricardo. He marveled at how fast I cut his hair.
   Meathead said, "The reason I used to come here in the first place was because you would take your time." So I asked him, "Why did you come back this time?" He couldn't answer.
   For the prices I charge, Meathead should have been glad he didn't get a bowl slapped on his head and should have thankfully left a tip. Tip the barber and a wonderful experience will occur. Don't tip the barber and expect not much more than a bowl cut.