I Pity The Fool (longish) (281 hits)
Category: NoneRating: -0.87 on 6 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by BillyGoat (View user info) at 2008-04-04 09:35:47 EDT
The rubbish I have lying around... Stacks and stacks of magazines choke the seats, leaving no space for people to seat. Each week i add more to the collection and sometimes I don't even read them. They just lie there un-read unloved like the feral street kids that increasingly roam the streets nowadays. Seriously though, sometimes I laugh at myself for hoarding so much crap. A customer would be mistaken to think this was a magazine shop rather than a barber's in south Chicago. Yes, it's that bad.
But I tell you what's good though. That Michael Jackson, he's brilliant aint he. Finally they got him on MTV- wouldn't let black kids on the channel-what were they talking. Thriller damn near melted the airwaves when it was released last year. I mean seriously just look at the kid. He owns the screen, shit, I aint seen confidence like that since James Brown or dare I say it Elvis ...the kid was white but- damn could he move. I see good things from Michael: his got the swagger, the talent and the moves; enough to get the feet tapping. This kid is gonna be big, just wait and see; been watching him since '69. Some say he is queer, pshh what do they know. Guy could get any girl he wants. Why would he want boys anyway. They should leave him alone, they don't know shit! Thanks to MTV, they'll see that this kid is as pure as the spring water that runs from the Rockies to the pacific. In 20 or so years there might be more black kids on MTV thanks to him and him alone.
Aside, from MJ, things has got me thinking, you know, maybe its 'cause I work alone and business is slow you. Take for instance, this box of chicken I'm eating. Don't get me wrong it's the tastiest thing I eat but the skin is so goddamn oily, the kind of oil that drips onto your fingers and runs down your arm. Now, I'm not very educated but that shit will get you someday surely. I see kids these days and I swear their waists are larger than mine was at the same time. Shit, even the feral kids have more meat than I did. Man, to think that just 8 years ago, our boys were coming back from the 'Nam stick thin. Imagine their anger when they saw some fat kid with a burger down his throat. It's scandalous. I don't know man, maybe its an impending epidemic this obesity shit..what with cable prices ever reducing, soon these kids won't be able to move.
And anyway, now I think about it I've been open for 2 years now and I have barely moved- I mean business wise, rarely do I get 10 customers per day. 10, like the fingers on my hands or the toes on my feet. I'm looking at the greasy digits now and I think its madness. I blame it on the 'fro. That shit just took off man and a lot of barbers lost their businesses. Dudes were going to salons and shit- weird. A few years before that, it would have been frowned upon. See the salon is and has always been for the ladies. Shit, what next, cornrows? Pierced ears? Bling [someone tell me what the hell that is]? Fuck man things is changing and I can't keep up.
Shit, there is some guy coming over... better get myself ready. I'll just wipe my hands on my trousers, they are brown, he won't notice- he looks like a dumbass anyways-plus the sink is too far away to go now.
He walks in, takes a seat and doesn't say anything. He has quite a lot of jewellery, around his neck and it looks disgusting on his chest hair. Dude I know you have a big chest, that you wanna show off but Saturday night fever was years ago. Honestly, its freaking 1983, move on .
Having analysed the forest of gold laden chest hair, I realize that I have actually seen him before but where exactly?
I grab the clippers and ask him what he wants as my brain searches for a location. He lifts his head and I instantly recognise the frown on his brow .Yep, I have seen him before, 2 weeks ago at club near here.
Surprisingly, He doesn't seem to recognise me which is strange, considering that our encounter wasn't the most amorous. Ok, I must say I was mildly drunk that day and calling him a fuckwit and threatening to smash his head with my vodka bottle was a little over the top. I blame it on the drink, I was what they call inebriated. My brain and my reactions where somehow detached....say divorced- by a sea of alcohol. So I didn't quite mean it. Fine, for a split second, I did.
I know he was only doing his job, but come on man. We are brothers. He's black, I'm black. Reach out a little and let me in. I even offered him a backhander. Fucking bodyguards, they think they are something special don't they.
Looking back [as he now turns around- to get a better look] what broke the camels back was the shove...yes that's it, when I tried to force my way past him to enter the club. I remember him getting really angry and pushing me and I remember my back clicking as it hit the ground. Protesting would have been useless any way so I spat at him but luckily - judging by the look on his face now- the spittle missed and hit some Jeri curled guy behind him.
By the time I returned to my apartment, I was pretty pissed off that my night had gone to waste. I popped in the VHS and let John Holmes and Aunt Peg, help me to much needed hand relief. Even so, it felt a bit hollow and I don't remember much of it, though I remember the stain on my corduroy pants the following morning.
He must have been replaying the events in his head as well, coz the familiar frown has deepened.
Before I can say..sh...he pushes the chair back and it knocks into my knee. Instinctively my body doubles over, and in doing so my clippers slip through my still greasy hands. I have no control and to my horror, the clipper fall on his head and sheer off a chunk of his afro about 2 cm from his ear. I watch in horror as the clump falls onto my linoleum and I could pee myself. To make matters worse, the top of his head, still on its way up connects with my falling chin and I can already taste the blood gushing from my ripped tongue.My nerves are on fire and i wanna scream out, but splashing blood on this brute of a man is the last thing I wanna do right now. Instead I swallow, savouring every last drop of the metallic taste.
He 's fully erect now and I realise just how massive this guy is. He's the same height as I am, but he;s a gazillion pounds heavier and I wouldn't blame him if he crushed me at this very spot.
At this very moment, he's face to face with me and hot bursts of chicken sate'd breath bellow out. He looks deep into my moist eyes and explains to me that if I don't fix this mess he's gonna kill me, peppering his speech with every four letter vulgarism known to man. And he's aint joking either, the guy is really that pissed of he would seriously do it. I'm 100% sure of it.
He returns to his seat with a thud and scraps the linoleum as he pulls himself to the mirror.
Chit-chat at this moment would be inappropriate and I have to fix this hair fast. I'm a professional and my expiration date hasn't yet arrived.So I look round, racking my brains for a solution. Years of limited business have made me a little rusty and ideas aren't coming as fact as I would like. I busy myself by grabbing this and that, fluffing his hair, pretending to know what I'm doing. I'm seriously running a blank and this guy's stares are getting me more nervous and if I don't do something, then who knows, I could expire in the next coming minutes.
After a while, tell him that I have a pile of magazines that would have something he'sd like. He signals for me to bring them over. I don't ask which one in particular he'd prefer, I turn to bring the whole lot and let him, decide.So, I fumble through the real estate magazine, car magazines etcetera.
Where the fuck are those hair magazines, I swear I bought some!.As I do this, the zoology magazine falls out. On the cover is a picture of a badger and my mind starts running wild.
What if ...nah....but..umm...can I...I look back at the guy, who by now is making grumbling noises, a warning that the lion is getting soon gonna pounce on this poor antelope. I have to do something.
I replace the zoology mag. I regrettably inform him that I don't have any magazines dealing with haircuts. Knowing that he's likely gonna blow, I tell him to calm down and to have faith as I have come up with a solution. And I pray to God it works.
I start on the right hand side and neaten up the bold patch.He hasn't said anything, so I assume everything is fine. I then do the other side and it looks shit if I'm to be honest. I contemplate taking the whole thing off, but an afro takes ages to grow and if I'm to redeem myself I better work hard. I slog hard for 3 hours using every bit of skill I can master and after 3 hours the cut is complete.
I apologize and let him leave without paying. I'm just glad to see the back of him. Once he has left, I chuck the magazines in the bin, spit out the congealing blood in my mouth and wash the rest of the grease off my hands. I plop back onto my seat as Bonnie Tyler's total eclipse of the heart is introduced by the announcer...I'm still stunned.
***
Years later, I heard that guy became famous. For what you might ask.
For his haircut!! To think it was inspired by a badger that found itself in the most unlikely of locations -a ghetto in south Chicago. The mind boggles.
User Reviews
Submitted by TheUniter (user info) at 2008-04-04 20:48:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
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Submitted by TheUniter (user info) at 2008-04-04 20:48:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Submitted by SkullBiter (user info) at 2008-04-04 17:59:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
FTR
Submitted by SkullBiter (user info) at 2008-04-04 17:55:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
What the hell...
?
Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-04-04 11:51:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
When you were young and your heart was like an open book
You used to say live and let live
(you know you did, you know you did, you know you did)
But in this ever changing world in which we live in
Makes you give in and cry
Say MINUS TWO, DIE
MINUS TWO, DIE
MINUS TWO, DIE
MINUS TWO, DIE
Submitted by Yozz (user info) at 2008-04-04 09:52:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
I wanted to read this. I wanted to read it and then come up with some witty review to be read in the voice of Mr. T. Something like that commercial he did recently for WoW - "Did you think about that Mr. Director?" But no - you had to fuck up the first sentence. I hate you.