Saturday, December 06, 2003

Our Weekend

Chico Chocolate was getting his haircut in this old style barber shop. I waited in one of the vinyl chairs thumbing through the magazines--which ranged from Bait and Tackle to Sports Illustrated. (I finally settled on GQ, of course.) Manly man kind of place where they keep the combs in a jar of blue tinted barbicide solution that probably hasn't been changed since the depression. The owner--a portly fellow in his sixties--had set up a Christmas display in his window consisting of about 7 dancing Santas and assorted reindeer amid a pile of tinsel. His assistant, Bob, wiry, in his fifties was snipping away at the last remaining hairs of his elderly customer, who was sound asleep. I watched as Bob's previous customer, an 80 year old stroke survivor took 15 minutes to shuffle across the 20 foot length of the shop in his walker.

I had this odd sensation as the radio played forgotten '70s greatest hits while 3 of the Santas belted out "Jingle Bell Rock" a few seconds apart from each other.

It was that feeling you get when things seem so normal they become terrifying: The David Lynch feeling.

The door slammed open knocking the old man in the walker halfway across the room. He was out cold. Two men--one tall and one short--in ankle length leather trenchcoats burst into the room each holding black 9 mm pistols in both hands. Chico ducked just in time to miss the first shot but the mirror shatters. The owner crumples to the hair strewn floor. The shears went flying out of Bob's hands as the killers shot several rounds into his heart. The tall killers sees me in the corner and starts towards me but trips over the old man's walker. In that second I scoop up Bob's scissors and throw them across the room. They land in the short killer's forehead killing him instantly. Chico grabs the jar of barbicide and hurls it at the tall killer's head as he vainly struggles to get up. I grab the short one's gun and pump three rounds into his partner's skull. Chico and I stand in shock for a moment listening to the strange medley of the singing Santas.

It was a damn good haircut though.

And the other old man slept like a baby through the whole thing.

And we also watched Lord of the Rings II on DVD (Orcs are scary!) and went out for burgers and fries.


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