The Barbershop Guys Laugh at Me
So I get my haircut (razored) every few weeks. I go to the place up the street which costs $12. It's owned by three brothers who are maybe from Uzbekistan or somewhere. I go mid-day to get my haircut and I'm usually not dressed all that normal. Like yesterday, I had on like jogging pants (with the zippers at the ankles and one of the two zippers is stuck zipped up so it flops around) and they're sort of highwatery. I was also wearing my crocs and a Speed Racer t-shirt. Sometimes I bring in Roscoe and tie him to one of the chairs. I guess my whole daytime "look" is extra weird now.
And I'm not very chatty in the chair. I like reading the magazines or the Post more. I used to feel guilty about not being all talky the whole time. Now I feel like I can do what I want. It's my 20 minutes.
Anyway, one of the three Uzbek brothers is sort of a dick. I don't know why I know this for a fact but he is definitely a dick. He gives off that universal dickvibe. My dickdar goes off or something. And a few weeks ago, I walked in and he said something in Uzbek to the brothers and they all laughed. Laughed big. I chalked it up to the tail end of the conversation and ignored it. I did suspect it was me they were laughing at-- but whaddayagonnado.
Anyway, I went in there yesterday and got hit with another Uzbek foreign one-liner from Uzdik as soon as I walked in! And all three started hysterical laughing. (I know something like this happened on Seinfeld). One laughed while looking straight at me. No shame about his laugh at! There's a side of me that really wanted to go to the dick brother and say, 'Something funny, mofuka?!' And get right in his face! Call him out! Another side of me thought about just turning around and walking out. Giving them the finger over my shoulder hoping that it translates in Uzbek.
But instead I took it. Took the laugh by ignoring it. Didn't say anything. Grabbed the Post off the table and sat in a chair and got the haircut. (The dick brother never cuts my hair btw. There's one brother who always gets up for me.)
Here's the thing... I guess when it comes down to it-- I really don't totally care if the Uzbek barber brothers laugh at me. I mean I'm only there for a $12 haircut and it's the closest place around. If I was gonna be all, "I'm never coming back here you Uzbek bastards!!" I'd have to walk 10 blocks to the next barber place where they charge $15. And I do actually like the haircut the Uzbek brother gives.
So if they wanna laugh... Laugh it up, Chuckle brothers! Whatever. I'm dressed weird or my dog is foofy! Joke it up! Lex Luthor bald joke even! Go for it! I'll knock a dollar off the tip-- and feel even less guilty about reading the newspaper and ignoring y'all the whole time.
So it's kind of win-lose-win... But I gotta admit I am curious about what is so dang funny.