Funny hair talk

After all of my consideration as to what I would do upon my arrival home this evening to celebrate peer pressure in my life, I ended up working late.  I didn’t leave the office until 7:30 so instead of even going to the gym, I decided to swing by my local hair chop shop and have some of my receding hairline manipulated.   I have a weird relationship with the…I don’t know what really to call it…it’s not a barber shop because women work there and there is no candy cane pole spinning, and I don’t want to call it a salon because that is downright gay.  So, the relationship is a love hate relationship.  It’s right by my house, which is nice.  The women that work it are all Polish/Russian/Ukrainian, which is nice because I can’t understand what they are saying 98 percent of the time which I’ll take even though I know that they have to be saying something funny about me.  It’s an even trade really…make fun of me all you want, so long as I don’t have to listen to the stupid things you talk about.  It’s kind of like watching a spanish soap opera.  You hear what they are saying, but I sometimes will make up conversations in my own head purely for self entertainment value.

Tonight I didn’t have to make anything up because I was one on one in the shop, so the lady had no choice but to speak broken ukrainian english.

Let me back up for just a moment.

There are only three women that work there.  The owner, the fat one, and the hot one.  Before you cringe at the fact that I am married and refer to another woman as the hot one, I do so in jest because to the normal man, she would be considered hot, but to me she is as ugly as they come because she sucks at cutting hair. The fat one is hotter than the hot one because she knows exactly how I like to have my hair cut.  And she does this thing at the end with a warm towel and blow dryer that is almost as good as a happy ending in my book.  I could seriously fall asleep that is how relaxing it is.

I do not know the names of any of the women because I don’t speak Russian anyway.  So, I can’t call in and ask “Is the fat lady cutting hair tonight?”  I guess I could…but that would be downright pressing my rudeness threshold.  I digress…

Last night on my way home I drove by, and the Hot one was there.  I sat outside like a stalker waiting to see if my plump lady emerged from the back, but no such luck.  I drove off.  Tonight I drove by again, and knowing the schedule I have before me gave in to the fact that tonight there will be no hot towel rub down in my future.  So, I went one on one with the Hot one.

Funny story #1:  The Ukrainian hair stylist just got back from vacation from Miami beach and she was distraught at the fact that everyone is beautiful in South Beach.  This girl could seriously be a European model and she went on for a good 5 minutes about the fact that in Chicago, she gets lots of attention from boys, but in Miami Beach she didn’t get the attention that she had hoped.  Wow.  I don’t know if she has any clue that in the US it’s good to refrain from telling people about how hot you are.

Funny story #2:  Ukrainian people are deathly afraid of Barack Obama.  This woman straight up told me that if Barack Obama is voted president she is moving back to Ukrain.  After laughing so hard that she had to stop with the hair cut, I asked for clarification about what she had just said.  She went on to explain that the economy right now will become worst if Barack Obama is voted president.  She likes Hillary Clinton for the simple reason that when Bill was president the economy was the best it’s ever been and Bill Clinton was the reason that she and many of her family and friends moved to the US.  Her main argument about why Barack Obama will be so bad was based on the fact that she heard that his wife didn’t like white people, which once again, set me into a fit of laughter.

Not only is the hair lady ugly for sucking at cutting my hair but she has a slight shade of racist too.

Funny Story #3:  When trying to talk to me about Las Vegas, she asked me if I had ever seen the movie:  11 Friends of Las Vegas Ocean.  “You mean Oceans 11″ “yes, that is the movie”.

This might not be as funny to you as it was for me hearing her say that, but I still got a kick out of it.  I have a newfound fascination with the mind of Ukrainians.