So Sweet of You to Notice.

Me:  “Jeez Rose! You didn’t even notice that I got my hair cut today.  What kind of a friend are you?!”

Rose:  “You didn’t notice that I got my hair cut AND colored today!”

Me:  “You did not.”

Rose:  “Yes I did too!”

Me:  “How much did they even cut off…?”

Rose:  “How much did they even cut off of yours??”

Me:  “A lot actually.  Like, I can make a faux-hawk again.”

Rose:  “Well…that really backfired on ya, didn’t it?”

Me:  “Yes I suppose it did.  Let’s try this again…Hey Rose!  Nice haircut!!  Did you get it colored too??”

Rose:  “Why yes, I did!  I like your haircut too!”

Me:  “Why, thank you!   So sweet of you to notice!”


Awesome Hair.

I was just getting my haircut at JC Penney, and there was a 10 year old boy getting his hair cut in the station next to me.  He had the shaggy summer look going, and his mom was trying to explain to the stylist how she wanted his hair to be cut and styled.  The boy’s Mom said, “I just want him to look more Asian, you know…?”

The boy looked at his mom in the mirror and said, “What does that mean?”

Kid’s Mom:  “Just a minute, I’m talking to this nice lady here…”

The kid was quiet for a second and then he looked kind of panicked:  “But Mom! What do you mean ‘look more Asian’.  What does that even mean??”

The kid’s mom and the hairstylist continued chatting and ignored him.  The kid sat back in his chair and shrugged his shoulders.

He made eye contact with me briefly and he said, “I guess it means that I’m going to look more awesome.”

I smiled at him and said, “That’s exactly what it means.”

He grinned:  “That’s what I thought!”


UnknownRea and I went to Bishop’s Barber Shop on Hawthorne (an extremely trendy Portland neighborhood) because I was due for a haircut.  I love going to Bishops usually, because they are super friendly and they give you free beer.  However, Bishops on Hawthorne needs a little help in the customer service department.

When we walked through the door, there was a young man standing behind the counter who seemed to believe that he is too awesome to even exist.  Given his skinny jeans, dirty, tight white T-shirt, young Elvis hair (complete with the curl on top) and large gauge ear-piercings; he was the picture of Hawthorne and therefore Rea and I were clearly no match for his avert coolness.

He gave us no kind of greeting or instruction whatsoever, so Rea and I sat down at the waiting area and shared a whispered conversation so that we could sufficiently mock him in order to make ourselves feel better.

Me:  “Good afternoon, ladies…”

Rea:  “Have you noticed how cool I am…?”

Me:  “Sorry, my awesomeness makes it impossible for me to be friendly…”

Rea:  “I would offer you a beer, but I’m too busy standing here being trendy and amazing.”

Me:  “Oh hi, sorry I didn’t notice you walk in.  These giant holes in my earlobes make it difficult for me to acknowledge your existence.”

We would have continued this amazing banter had we not looked up in time to notice that the trendy young man was totally staring at us from behind the counter.  An extremely awkward length of time passed as we stared back at him in silence.

Mr. Cool mumbled:  “…ummm, so yeah, I didn’t hear your answer…”

Rea and I looked at each other, before I said:  “Ummm…what was the question?”

Mr. Cool sighed:  “Haircut?”

Me:  “Yes, I would like to get a haircut.”  (I felt the need to restate his question as
an acknowledgement to his lack of a complete sentence.)

Mr. Cool:  “Drink?”

Me:  “No thanks, we’re good.”

Mr. Cool:  “K.”

My hairstylist walked over to fetch me a couple of minutes later.  She had green hair.


I looked at Rea with fear in my eyes.

Rea whispered:  “It’s Hawthorne.”

I whispered back:  “Maybe we should got to Great Clips next time.  In the suburbs…”

Rea: “Nah, we’re too cool for that.”