June heat is now in the house. So much for surfing today. Blah. 24hour shift yesterday @ the firehouse. Nothing exciting, so we get blessed on that account. Tough times at the old homestead lately, with C and her job BS, alas, it doesnt come to end, but continues on its ignorant way. At the Hotel now, and as usual, not looking forward to another night with the fools of the world, out on the vacation syndrome. Oh well. So be it. Cant seem to shake the "cereal depression" lows of late. Overwhelmed.
Trying too hard to accomplish what needs to be done.
1. Finish the remodelling of up-stairs (90% complete)
2. Refi the whole shit.
3. Get C on the road to work again, and keep her smiling for the time being. (Arrgggh!)
4. Get the promotional list out - (week at soonest)
5. Go surf. Bwahhahahahaha!
6. Pay the fricking bills.
6A. - When you got a backpack full of them, WTF?
7. Get promoted - assuming we are on the list...Argggggh, part 2
8. Study for the NEXT promotional test - End of July.
9. Have a beer.
10. Have another 1.
Went to get a haircut - (file this under things not to do when have a day off) at Fantastic Sams. Mistake. Big mistake.
Now I dont particularly figure myself as a primping kind of guy, so haircuts matter nada to me. Cheaper the better. Fricking 12 to 20 bucks for a gay guy to cut your mop is kinda ridiculous, and having a gay-hairdressing brother-in-law, I am no bigot. But explantions aside, he aint cutting my do anymore. Now you go to FS here, it is manned by immigrant Koreans & Vietnamese ladies, who, for the most part, are compotent enuf to cut ones locks. I have gone to this outlet before, and come out, unscathed. I hold no predjudice to the ladies. They do the hair cutting thing, and I pay & tip them, and we all go on our happy way.
Usually.
Ah, the facts - So me and the Mai-mai go to FS for the cutting. No line, step right up sir, your demolition is waiting!
Usually I get the 1 lady who always tells me in wonderful broken "engrish", about her life. I nod, close my eyes, and paitiently wait for the end. Pay, tip, ..Aloha, I am out the door.
But not today. Today I get "Angie". Now I know her name isnt "Angie" and I know she knows I know this, but I guess it is part of the FS experience. You as the customer, put down a bogus name, and they as the "stylist" give you a bogus one to call them. Fair enuf.
So "Angie" gets to work. "How shoort you like your cut?" - I should have run.
"not too short, just clean up the curls and length, thanks"
OK.
Hey, I am a simple guy. Surf, work, wear a baseball hat so I dont have to comb the mop.
How bad can you fuck up my hair?
"Angie" busts out the buzzers.
"Angie" cuts with abandon. And cuts. And cuts. "Angie" answers the phone. "Chew cum down in arout fifteen minutes, Okay?"
Note to self- No more "Angie".
"Angie" gets back to the demolition at hand. Buzzzzzz. I close my eyes, and think, I am going to have to pay for this, and tip her, for the God awful results that are assured to come outta this. Ah, FUCK.
I can hear in the "waiting" area, Maile with my cell phone doodling with it. Maile is 13. Maile has a new attitude. I am going to wring her neck. Maile calls C,--- yap, yap, yap. The demo continues, and by my own imagination, (cause I aint looking!!!!) it is not getting better.
Maile comes to the torture chair I am in. "Dad?" "Uh, Can I go over to Jamba Juice?" Yean, Mai, go ahead.
Wonderful daughter of my loins then proceeds to back away, without "Angie" seeing makes the well known universal sign of "finger-in-the-mouth" gag.
Oh, the joy.
"Angie" bust out the big guns.
"Angie" cuts my ear.
"Angie"....well lets put it like this - It didnt get worse. But it sure is not getting better.
End damage- 13 bucks for the hammer job, 3 bucks for tip, 5 dollars Jamba.
Endless ridicule at the Station, wife hates the cut, Maile laughs.
"Angie" smiles, says " ah, gooot, Yew no need hat anymore.."
Yep.
I turn, smile, head toward the door.....
And put on my hat.
Shit.
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