A gay cut

For years I've patronized gruff Italian barbers who don't talk much, save to tell me they're from Sicily, and a motley assortment of women in various places who really don't seem to care much about my hair. Like that bored 19-year old at the mall in Lincoln, Nebraska who put the buzzer on 2 and went to town while examining her nails. Mostly I have done this in support of a "get a cheap cut whenever it's convenient" policy.

Finally, I've decided to play the extra 10-15 dollars for a more quality cut, and have found a convenient gay male to do the cutting. Gay guys combine a genuine interest in male hair with an ability to hold down a conversation that straight barbers and women cannot combine. All the great feathering haircuts of my youth were done by gay men, as well as some of the classic mullets.

However, this guy rambled on a little bit too much, telling me all about his boyfriend "in the AV industry", who lives up in Bergen County, wants to retire but is only 53, just sold his business, found a great job with a former competitor, likes to go on long weekends to Europe every quarter, how they fight jetlag with a couple of drinks and a sleeping pill, and so on and on and on. He seemed to have forgotten that the conversational bit is to pass the time of haircut, not draw it out interminably. I should have suggested that he start a blog.

And I should have have him take off a little more.