If my hair looks funny today, it might be because I had my hair cut last night by the guy around the corner, Jose, I think. Not much language in common, but I never feel as if I communicate clearly with my hair cutters anyway.
William had gone there last week and he looks ok, and I thought it iconoclastic that he has a motorcycle parked inside his storefront shop. He said that kids don’t cry during a haircut when they’re sitting on a motorcycle. Sweet. He also charges unisex prices. I boycott places that don’t.
I didn’t let him cut too much, but we agreed that I could come back today to cut a little more “si necesario.” He did say with a smile, “si, cortar, no pegar,” I can cut, but I can’t stick it back on.
That’s what all hairdressers say.