I am going to miss the barber shop here for sure. It’s an old man and an old woman and it’s luck of the draw which one you get. Digger and I will wander down and flip a coin to see who’s going first, fully aware that one of us is leaving with a terrible haircut.
The woman will take your request, like most barbers, and try her best to do what you ask for. The man, who is bald which doesn’t give you the most faith in his hairdressing, will sit you down, nod and in his barely understandable accent will say the word “medium?” and get to work. How a haircut could be a medium is at first hard to understand but, to be fair to him, after he last cut Diggers hair I couldn’t think of a more fitting description of the outcome.
The woman may do a better job with your hair but you might well be in for a seriously deep conversation. Back home my Greek barber will tell me what’s wrong with the Chelsea back four or whether he thinks the Will and Kate’s kid will have blond hair. Here the woman tells you all about her ex husband who was Scottish and died of a heroin overdose. As she moved the razor blade down my neck I had to bite my tongue not to say, ‘that fits.’ I looked over at Digger to see if he was listening but I could see that he was just thinking one thing, ‘what the fuck is a medium!’