Charlie Hatton About This
About Me
Email Me

Charlie Hatton
Brookline, MA

All Quotes


Howdy, friendly reading person!
I'm on a bit of a hiatus right now, but only to work on other projects -- one incredibly exciting example being the newly-released kids' science book series Things That Make You Go Yuck!
If you're a science and/or silliness fan, give it a gander! See you soon!

Hair Today, ‘Hairrendous’ Tomorrow

So, I’ve got a stupid haircut.

I’ve mentioned my barber before — my allegedly bilingual barber, for which English is apparently some sort of ‘hobby’. I’d link to one of those earlier posts, but — well, I’ve got a stupid haircut right now. So I can’t be bothered.

To quickly recap, though, the proprieter of the clip joint isn’t the problem. He’s a nice older man, and speaks fairly fluent English and Spanish. And probably Spanglish, too, though I’ve never asked him, ‘Que es shaking, mi homey‘. Because that’s just not how I roll, mamacita.

Anyway, the real difficulty comes when the main guy’s not available — which is all the time, because everyone else who goes to the barber shop knows to run to him. Me, I’m not that smart, apparently. I don’t think about such things beforehand, and only feel stupid and sad and ashamed afterward. Sort of like sitting through a chick flick, or having sex with a transvestite hooker. Or in Hugh Grant’s case, both, I suppose.

So, I end up getting stuck with the woman, whose English seems to be limited to:

  • You seet here, okay?’
  • Shave, too, meester?’
  • and ‘Feefteen dollars, thank jou!

Clearly, she’s not the sort of ‘barber’ that you can discuss the Patriots secondary with, or count on to banter about the sorry state of the Red Sox bullpen. And dammit, that’s standard barber shop fodder. You talk sports, then mention the weather, and maybe — maybe — you ask about the family. That’s it. If the haircut’s not over after that, then you’re not at a barber shop. You’ve gone and sat in a stylist’s chair, and I’ve lost all respect for you. Also, you’re going to pay more than feefteen dollars, that’s for damned sure. Pansy.

Now, she seems to be a nice woman, as far as I can tell from this side of the language barrier. But she’s not much of a barber — by my standards, at least. She’s got this habit of buzzing the back-of-the-head hair away with the electric clippers, then *snip-snip-snip*-ing ever so slightly in the front. Maybe that’s the style; I’m too old and married and dorky to know such things. But it doesn’t really suit me. For three weeks after a haircut, I look in the mirror and think Brian Setzer is stalking me in the bathroom.

I suppose it’s not the absolute last thing I need when I’ve just woken up, but it’s pretty goddamned far down the list. Somewhere just below having Jimmie ‘J.J.’ Walker jump out of my closet, and just above Dame Edna lurking under the bed. Not exactly ‘DYN-O-MITE!

At any rate, I know I could try to reason with the barberette. And I do try, I really do. But the conversation usually goes something like this:

Her: You like eet, yes?

Me: Um… well, could you take a little more off in the front?

Her: Que?

Me: Can you take it off? Here, in the front.

Her: Que?

Me: Take. It. Off.

Her: Meester, ees not that kind of haircut.

Me: No, no — I didn’t mean that. Here, on my head. Can you cut more?

Her: Cut? More?

Me: Right, in the front. Cut more in the front?

Her: But… ees another customer in the chair in the front. No can cut there.

Me: No. The front of my head. Can you cut more hair, on the front of my head?

Her: Que? Jou’re dead? I don’t get eet.

Me: Just… can you… *sigh* Look, here. On the… um, fronto. Of my, uh, cerveza.

Her: Cerveza?

Me: Si, si! Cerveza! Get it?

Her: Meester, you can buy me a beer… but I’m steel not going to take off my clothes. You loco, hermano.

So, I figure a stupid haircut is better than being arrested for sexually harassing a Venezuelan lady barber. Or worse, finally convincing her to ‘take eet off’, and having to pay for that. ‘Cause that’s not going to be fifteen bucks. I can tell you that.

Still, that doesn’t make it right. Should I have to suffer with an unfabulous ‘do, just because I slept through high school Spanish class? Must my follicles endure this embarrasment, simply because I don’t carry a Bostonese-to-Latino translation dictionary in my back pocket? Well, apparently so. That’s just the way it goes, I guess. But if it happens again, dammit — cervezas are gonna roll!

Permalink  |  2 Comments

2 Responses to “Hair Today, ‘Hairrendous’ Tomorrow”

  1. RRaccoon says:

    Aye mami! You gotsta step up and tell that bith “Listen here bitch!” “You either cut my hair right or make me a sammich!” “Don’t make me slap your ass!”

  2. #Debi says:

    Next time, tell her, “Corte mi pelo más corto en frente, por favor.” That should help (as far as you know)….

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

HomeAboutArchiveBestShopEmail © 2003-15 Charlie Hatton All Rights Reserved
Me on Film 'n' Stage:
  Drinkstorm Studios

Me on Science (silly):
  Secondhand SCIENCE

Me on Science (real):
  Meta Science News

Me on ZuG (RIP):
  Zolton's FB Pranks
  Zolton Does Amazon

Favorite Posts:
30 Facts: Alton Brown
A Commute Dreary
A Hallmark Moment
Blue's Clues Explained
Eight Your 5-Hole?
El Classo de Espanol
Good News for Goofballs
Grammar, Charlie-Style
Grammar, Revisitated
How I Feel About Hippos
How I Feel About Pinatas
How I Feel About Pirates
Life Is Like...
Life Is Also Like...
Smartass 101
Twelve Simple Rules
Unreal Reality Shows
V-Day for Dummies
Wheel of Misfortune
Zolton, Interview Demon

Me, Elsewhere

Standup Comedy Clips

Selected Clips:
  09/10/05: Com. Studio
  04/30/05: Goodfellaz
  04/09/05: Com. Studio
  01/28/05: Com. Studio
  12/11/04: Emerald Isle
  09/06/04: Connection

Boston Comedy Clubs

 My 100 Things Posts

Selected Things:
  #6: My Stitches
  #7: My Name
  #11: My Spelling Bee
  #35: My Spring Break
  #36: My Skydives
  #53: My Memory
  #55: My Quote
  #78: My Pencil
  #91: My Family
  #100: My Poor Knee

More Features:

List of Lists
33 Faces of Me
Punchline Fever
Simpsons Quotes
Quantum Terminology

...Bleeding Obvious
By Ken Levine
Defective Yeti
Divorced Dad of Two
Gallivanting Monkey
Junk Drawer
Life... Weirder
Little. Red. Boat.
Mighty Geek
Scott's Tip of the Day
Something Authorly
Unlikely Explanations

Full Archive

Category Archives:

(Stupid) Computers
A Doofus Is Me
Articles 'n' Zines
Audience Participation
Awkward Conversations
Bits About Blogging
Bitter Old Man Rants
Blasts from My Past
Cars 'n' Drivers
Dog Drivel
Foodstuff Fluff
Fun with Words!
Grooming Gaffes
Just Life
Loopy Lists
Making Fun of Jerks
Marketing Weenies
Married and a Moron
Miscellaneous Nonsense
Potty Talk / Yes, I'm a Pig
Sleep, and Lack Thereof
Tales from the Stage
Tasty Beverages
The Happy Homeowner
TV & Movies & Games, O My!
Vacations 'n' Holidays
Weird for the Sake of Weird
Whither the Weather
Wicked Pissah Bahstan
Wide World o' Sports
Work, Work, Work

Alas Smith and Jones
Berkeley Breathed
Bill Hicks
Dave Barry
Dexter's Laboratory
Douglas Adams
Evening at the Improv
Fawlty Towers
George Alec Effinger
Jake Johannsen
Married... With Children
Monty Python
Nick Bakay
Peter King
Ren and Stimpy
Rob Neyer
Sluggy Freelance
The Simpsons
The State

Plugs, Shameless
100 Best Humor Blogs | Healthy Moms Magazine



Feeds and More
Subscribe via FeedBurner


RSS 2.0
Site Hosting:
Solid Solutions

Powered by:

Title Banner Photo:
Shirley Harshenin

Creative Commons License
  This work is licensed under a
Creative Commons License

Performancing Metrics

Page copy protected against web site content infringement by Copyscape

Valid XHTML 1.0

Valid CSS!

© 2003-15 Charlie Hatton
All Rights Reserved