I have this really awful habit of putting off haircuts for months at a time. Often it's just that I don't have the time, but I also procrastinate because I'm poor as fuck. Back in...2006?...I started wearing my hair in this weird pseudo-samurai tail with the sides and back shaved clean (most of the time), and I did that mostly because if push came to shove I could just do it myself. I looked a little silly, really. So after being harassed by numerous women in my life who had seen pics of me with short hair, I went to a salon and got it cut. It looked great and I was happy with my hair for the first time in years. I even donated the clippings to Locks Of Love. None of these women have subsequently let me take them on a date.
But salon pricing is often out of my price range, and even though Miss Eva does a fucking incredible job, I just can't afford it, so I've been kinda trying to steer toward local barber shops. I like to frequent "Mom & Pop" places here in Bradenton. Keep it local, ya know? So I decided to walk on down to the barber shop down the road, CAPS Barber Shop.
I went in and wasn't even greeted at all. Bad sign. There's like this...waiting room thing and there's a water cooler and a Foosball table. And some dude's backpack chilling on the floor in front of the only open seats. Great. But I sit down with my copy of Emily Post's Etiquette and wait my turn. I sat there, trying to read, for probably over an hour. All the while these clowns are taking 20 odd minutes to cut some kid's fucking hair. Place starts filling up. And then I was skipped in favor of some doddering old man.
Alright. Fuck this.
I alight back to my house in a bit of a rage (no kidding, right?) and look up some local places. I decide on this place that's sort of in the 'hood, and get in the Moon Rover. Which of course pisses me off more because the last thing I want to do when I'm already goddamn angry is get behind the wheel of my Jeep. Fuck!
But on my way, I see this other place that's not far from Castle Discordia. Creative Images, at Manatee & 26th. Why didn't I remember this before, I thought to myself. So I pull in, kind of excited that I didn't have to go very far at all. There's even a great big banner saying WALK-INS WELCOME! Sweet. Well, not so damn sweet after all. Inside there's a very nice black lady patiently waiting on...I dunno. Cuz the proprietor (?) asks me what I need and I reply, "I'd like to get a haircut, please."
"I'm sorry, everyone's at the Regatta and there's no one to help you."
Wait, what the fuck? I stifle my exacerbating rage to scream things like "Well why the fuck are you even open then!? What the fuck is wrong with this fucking town!? Who the fuck do I have to blow to get the shit cut off my goddamn head!?" ...and other things of that nature. Instead, I sigh and make my way back out into fucking Saturday afternoon traffic.
Onward south, I keep driving, to Pam's Barber Shop on 5th St. The Internet told me they were open till 11:00pm, and after fighting slow-ass traffic on Cortez, I find that once again the Internet has lied to me (fucking thing does it all the time). 11:00am is when they close. Missed it by two fucking hours.
Next up, Fucktastic Sam's in Bayshore Gardens Plaza. After being cut off by some fucking douche-bag Soccer Mom in a giant SUV, fiddle-fucking with her phone (I of course screamed the words "Fucking Cunt" as I am wont to do in these situations) I go into the place to find what amounts to a small crowd waiting patiently for their turn.
Fuck no. Hell the Fuck no.
Now my bitter rage at how simple life used to be is edging toward Day Drinking & Bitter Depression. So I get back on the road and figure I'll try some other chain barber up towards Manatee Ave. As I'm cruising up 26th approaching Cortez (again!!) I suddenly remember seeing a place on the Google Map that was in the same plaza as Home Depot.
Okay, last chance. I pull in and the parking lot looks a little deserted. Little did I know that this was actually a really good sign. I walk into Lakeside Barber Shop, and even though there was yet another doddering old man who looks like he doesn't even need a damn haircut...I'm immediately seated. I tell the sweet Latina lady that I'm looking for a haircut that's a little more military-style than she's probably used to. (My Marine friends would understand the term Medium Reg, but no one else does.) I describe it, and approximately 10-15 minutes later, the bush on my head is gone and my hair looks sleek & stylish as fuck.
Cost me $12 and even gave her a $5 tip because it took her longer than normal. Between the quick and beautiful service, the old school barber shop conversation and the smooth jazz playing, I'm pretty sure they've earned a customer for life.
Fuck Yeah Lakeside Barber Shop!!
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