Fairy Haircut

    FROM THIS            TO                   THIS!

I walked into my regular hairdressers couple of weeks ago as I needed an urgent trim; my hair was a bit of a mess.  I had to attend a wedding later in the afternoon and didn’t really want to turn up and have my picture taken with the bride and groom looking like Lenny Kravitz’s long lost brother.

As I entered the reception area, I realised there was no Sandra, my regular hairdresser, quite possibly the one and only person I actually trust to touch my poor excuse for an afro.  Uh oh...  maybe she was on a break.  In the immortal words of Kylie Minogue, I should be so lucky.  As it turns out Sandra had left to go back to Italy and set up her own beauty shop. 

Oh how I wish I had a private jet to fly me to Florence for one last haircut by Sandra because who did I have here waiting to cut my hair, none other than Mike.   Mike and his manboobs to be more precise.  Oh the dread, the fear, I so should have walked out as soon as I knew my beloved Sandra was there no more. But I was powerless, already being hypnotised by his manboobs, being directed to the chair like I was about to have root canal treatment at the dentist.

All I wanted was the usual, but what did Mike know about my usual, he normally just winks at me and licks his lips as Sandra used to cut my hair.  So I explained to him that I just wanted a trim all over, nothing fancy, no colours, no tips, no experimenting.  Only a simple request to not cut my hair too short, ideally just a nice neat cut as I’m off to a wedding in the afternoon.

As Mike set to work, my fear became reality; I could feel his huge meatloafs being pressed against the back of my head on a regular basis.  At this point I would say he made the hair on the back of my neck stand up, but I don’t think even my neck hair was brave enough to contemplate being molested by Mikes giant man nipples.  As he worked his way round to the front, a sense of fear took over as I imagined he would cut the top of my hair up close and I would practically be breast feeding. So I panicked and closed my eyes and tried to make conversation, oh and it had to be a manly conversation as anything short of this would not suffice. 

So the conversation ranged from my rip off BMW car service to England winning the 6 Nations Rugby.  Good strong bloke talk, this was more like it, I was now beginning to feel at ease, I mean we could have just been any 2 regular chaps chatting in the pub or down the local Indian having a chicken tikka masala.  Or so I thought, because at this point Mike chuckled and piped up that he fancied taking up rugby, especially the scrum part.  I had no comeback, I could only remain silent. 

It had been a good few minutes since I had closed my eyes so decided to have a quick peak, now I only opened my right eye for a quick blink and I'm pretty sure that Mike also had his eyes closed as he fingered my hair in what seemed very much like slow motion.  Right about now I needed Lee Harvey Oswald on a rooftop opposite to just take me out of my misery.

A full twenty five minutes later, Mike and his man boobs had finished.  As I opened my eyes to take a look, I was left stunned.  My eyes nearly filled up, my jaw dropped and a deep sigh was all I could manage.  I think a full minute passed before I could compose myself to say a word. Mike and his giant manboobs had decided to cut my hair with all the subtlety of a lumberjack with a chainsaw let loose in the Amazon rainforest.  I certainly don’t remember asking for a hair cut that would make me look like I was about to go join the navy (even if I do like the uniforms... oops thats for another post).

Do you want to know what Mike had done? well Jimi Hendrix to Kojak in 25 minutes, that’s what he had done.  I mean I could literally feel my scalp; you could so easily use my head to sand down some patio furniture before varnishing it to get it ready for the summer.

He then showed me a mirror to see the back of my head.  Yes, thank you Mike, the backs just as shit as the front.  Thank you for chopping off my curly locks and making me look like a prison inmate from Strangeways.  Definetley the look I wanted for the summer.

All I could think of and pray was that my hair would grow back.  You see at my age you don’t really want a haircut where the sun can bounce off your head and blind your partner unless she is wearing sunglasses.

I should mention that when I walked back into house, my 7 month old niece started crying as she didn't recognise me, I nearly broke down too.  Oh how I wish I tweaked Mike’s giant manboob nipples before leaving, though something tells me he may have enjoyed that.

Thankfully my hair has grown back and all is well again, well, until the next time of course.

Peace Love & Happiness 

TanRockStar

Making Relationships Work

I recently attended a wedding where the bride and groom were introduced through family involvement or maybe interference, whichever way you like to look at it.  The bride was originally from Birmingham but now living in Glasgow and the groom from the ghetto’s of Stoke.  Perfect match? I thought so too. 

Oh how cute they looked, the bling teethed groom in his bullet proof teflon vest alongside the radiant bride covered in gold that would I’m pretty sure account for more than Bolivia’s GDP.  If you really want to know where Gordon Brown sold the UKs gold reserves, look no further, as the bride from Glasgow was wearing it…. All of it!

Anyhow, it got me thinking how did they get to know each other with being so far away? It’s not as if you could just meet up after work over a hazelnut latte and pretend how busy your day was.  Similarly weekends can be booked up with visits to Ikea to purchase that much sought after mood lamp that will just make your living room resemble a car boot sale or worse a brothel.  This doesn’t leave you much time for romance.

Maybe you could take a couple of days off work to visit your potential future partner? however you do have to be careful though so early in a “relationship” to do this, especially if you have only got 3 days annual leave left until Christmas and you want to go away to Amsterdam with your mates.  

Well, there is the telephone of course to stay in touch and get to know each other. Ah the good old dog and bone, talk for hours making endless conversation of hopes and dreams that you may one day share with your future loved one. Only for reality to hit 3 months after your married when you realise that the height of your partner’s ambition is to have pie & chips every thursday watching some high pitched orange wag shouting “Shaaatuupp”.  Sorry, my bad, let’s not look that far ahead just yet.

Back to the phone we go, ah yes there’s only really so much you can actually talk about over the phone, before one of you decides to nod off and snore down the line.

As you can imagine there’s nothing quite like hearing your future partner make sounds of a wombat through her nostrils.  Just think if you play your cards right, you could hear that noise every night….. for the rest of your life! Sexy times indeed.

But technology has moved on of course, you can stay in contact through web cam I hear you say? Ah a wise option, or is it?  Sure you can see each other every night, you both smile and giggle, you make a comment about not wearing any make up, and she makes a comment that u look amazing without it, oh wait, that should be the other way round.  Good times.

But let’s not cloud over the issue for even one minute though. I mean really what your thinking is jeez this guy’s nose hair is blocking the full laptop screen and that he should really put some pants on.  Where as the guy is thinking when is she going to show some cleavage or at least have the decency to turn the bloody web cam off so he can start streaming some of the good stuff all the way from Japan.

Which leads me to believe the best way or only way to maintain a long distance relationship is face to face and by meeting up on a regular basis.

To prove my point, let me introduce you to a friend of mine called Imran, an old school friend who I recently got back in touch with.  Imran is a 30 something high profile investment banker in London who is absolutely desperate to settle down.  One failed relationship after another have started to take their toll on the poor fella, and is so broken and lost I’m pretty sure he would marry a goat if it meant he could go down on one knee just so he could keep up with his married friends.

About 4 months ago, through the inter-tweb thingy and the world of fartbook, Imran met Alandra, a half Colombian half American college student from New Orleans.  Think J-Lo’s figure with Beyonce’s looks and you would be about half way there.

They have been talking regularly through Skype, facebook, webcam, msn and any other means of communication and Imran has now flown out 3 times in the last 3 months to see her. Very keen indeed.

Now every time he goes out to the U.S he buys her a handbag, some Tiffany's jewellery, puts her up in a fancy hotel, and pays for dinner etc like a gentleman would.  When they are meeting up and are together he tells me it’s great.

The flip side to that is when he is back in the UK, Alandra tends to go missing for days on end with rumours of an ex on the scene and poor Imran doesn’t quite know what to do, so he plays dumb and pretends everything is swell.  One time Imran was feeling brave and he did raise the issue of settling down, Alandra didn’t speak to him for nearly 2 weeks after that.

She will however suddenly reappear with the “when are you coming over I miss you, p.s can you pick up a Gucci handbag from duty free on your way”  sweet talk. Imran goes all mushy like a tin of peas and logs on to British Airways for his plane ticket.  On his last visit, Imran told me things are going excellent and he is in the process of buying her a vespa to ride around college in and will be inviting her over to London for the summer as she called him tight and not spending his money on her. I know what you're thinking.

Imran sees it as a small price to pay for some "luvin" as he so eloquently puts it, and the ball is firmly in his court. Personally I think there isn't even a ball or a court, hell it ain't even the same sport, but they do say love is blind.

The point is, Imran's "relationship" with Alandra works when they see each other, and not so much to put it mildly when they are on opposite sides of the pond.  So it's safe to assume, the more you see each other during the early days of courting, the better the odds of sustaining a healthy relationship in the long run, even if it means taking a hefty hit on your wallet like poor Imran. 

Peace, Love & Happiness 

TanRockStar