I was going to a wedding – and I was going to get dressed up. In fact, I was not only part of the wedding, but I knew folks would be looking at the big American in his ào dài. (say ow yie) I figured a haircut was in order.
So, I asked Mr. Cu to take me to his hớt tóc (barbershop.) As always, Cu had his camera.
Barbershops are not necessarily in a business part of town. This one is in a neighborhood, at the end of an alley and is part of the barber’s house. Nice place for the local kids to get a glimpse of the stranger.
I keep my hair fairly short – and I asked for my hair to be cut short – but when I saw the first bit of hair come off my head, I realized the barber had a different idea of “short” than I did. But one of the things about a haircut is that it grows back. I can deal with short.
To answer some questions before they are asked: No, I did not ask him to clean my ears, though he had the requisite little brushes to do that. No, I didn’t get a “massage”, meaning the beating around the shoulders and neck that suffices to be a massage. No, I didn’t have to engage in the usual barbershop chatter – the man had never heard of football.
And yes – my haircut was noticed.