I got my haircut in France... I know that doesn't sound exciting, but let me set the scene... In the coastal city of Nice there was this little bar... My friend Angi and I sat in it for about three hours... Needless to say I was not in top form at the time of my decision...
Stepping into the barbershop, I had forgotten almost all of the French I had learned in 4 years of high school and so I was reduced to pointing at a picture of our tour guide(a crazy English bloke named Nick that I will NEVER forget), and saying, "Comme Il." (Translation; Like him.)
The barber nodded and lead me to a chair... I stumbled into it and he covered me with the frock and started rumaging through his supplies... I was expecting some clippers or some scissors so when a straight razor and comb emerged I was a little taken.
I was a little nervous, but it's like I always say, when in Rome do as the Romans do... As he started to comb my hair and fling that razor over my head, sending hair flying I realized that axiom just didn't work, and besides, this was France, not Rome... didn't the Romans kill off a whole hell of a lot of French back when it was still Gaul?
This French barber was carrying on a conversation with the woman next to him, and I could be wrong, but I think he might have been a little tipsy... Now I couldn't blame him for that, I mean, I was in a worse state than he, but still, the man was whipping a straight razor around my head faster than I could blink.
Looking back at Angi in the mirror, she had a complete look of horror mingled with morbid fascination lining her face... That didn't help so I just didn't look at her anymore... I admit, I was scared...
To make matters worse, I was starting to get the spins, and I did not want to start falling out of the chair at that point in time, so I closed my eyes and tried to sit still... Next thing I know, the barber said, "C'est fini." (Translation; It's done) I opened my eyes as he was brushing hair off of my neck and I must admit, It looked just like I wanted it to...
I paid him promptly, leaving a 200 franc tip, which is a little under 30 dollars... A big tip for a haircut, I know, but I must admit, it was the first time a haircut was so much of an adventure...
You would think after that I would drink a little less wine, but what can I say, I couldn't help myself... So on our last night, Angi and I happened upon Scarlet's room... Well I suppose I should explain who that is exactly first...
I have this friend that I like to call Scarlet... She just happens to be one of my ex-girlfriends, but she's one of the few that I wouldn't cast into hell... In fact, she's actually a good friend of mine now... I guess it's one of those crazy things...
When I went to France, Scarlet was with the group that I went with... Well, of course, on our final night in that beautiful country I decided I needed to get wild... So my companion Angi and I imbibed a bit too much wine before returning to our hotel... No big deal... We then went down to Scarlet's room... There I proceeded to put on Scarlet's dress and run around the hotel...
As much as I hate to say it, if it hadn't been for the hairy legs, 5'o'clock shadow, bony frame, bushy eyebrows, large nose, adam's apple, and short cropped hair I would have made a pretty attractive gal... Actually I would have been damn ugly, but that's beside the point... It's always incredibly funny when a guy is wearing a dress, and I really don't know why...