West County Humor

The Barber Shop and Fallin' in Love

Left: Admiring Roy by Hannah Rose West County Humor by Ben Marshall I was out ropin' a steer the other day when J.W. did one of those "you know" things. "You know, Ben, there's a barber shop in Sebastopol," he said. Not wanting to seem like a know-it-all, I acted like I didn't. "Yep," he continued, "it's right in there next to some pizza place in that Sebastopol town square. You know, the one with all the funny ways to get in and no way to get out." "Kinda like love," I mused out loud. "Yep," he said again and rode off to leave me to my thoughts.  I remember the first time I ever went into one of those beauty shops.

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Now, there's a misnomer. I found nothin' and no one even approaching the word, "beauty" inside. Except maybe the pretty little filly who cut my hair.

My barber shop had closed, and I decided to try out somethin' new on the advice of one of my girlfriends. "Go to Michelle," she told me, "She does a fabulous job with hair." You mighta guessed, this girlfriend was from the City.

"Come with me," Michelle said, after I arrived for my "appointment" and she guided me past a platoon of women gettin' their hair spiked through sheets of tin foil.

From the looks of it, Michelle seemed like she favored sleepin' on one side of her head. "You gonna cut my hair in a sink?" I blurted out when we got to where Michelle was taking me. "I was kinda hopin' for a barber chair."

"No, silly," she said, slappin' my arm. "I'm going to wash your hair."

And wash it, she did. She scrubbed it, massaged it, rubbed it, and did everything but ask me to marry her. I found myself no longer in the mood for a haircut. Then she dried me off and led me to a chair. "How do you want it cut?" she asked.

"Heck, I don't know," I said. "I ain't never been to barber school."

Well, she cut my hair while starin' at some pictures in a magazine and I have to admit I looked kinda fancy. That was until the next morning when I washed it. When I put my hat on and walked out to the stables, J.W. told me I looked like a Beatle.

I never went back to the beauty salon. I guess I'm not an appointment kinda guy.

Besides, I found out the barber shop that started this whole conversation reopened soon thereafter. Now I go in, sit down, wait my turn for Rudy and get a real man's haircut. Complete with havin' my neck shaved.

But you know, sometimes when I'm all alone at night I think about callin' up Michelle and askin' her if she'd consider just washin' my hair next time.