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Cutting It Close

It’s really coming down to the wire now. It just about that time when Eastern Europe starts getting really cold — which is our cue to get the heck outta dodge! The trip was strategically planned around trying to migrate around the world in tune with the seasons in order to maximize warmer weather. After all, we each only have one bag of clothes with us for the 8-month trip, and you can’t really pack a whole lot of warm (read: bulky) clothes in a single bag. More shorts and t-shirts equals more variety, and that’s a very good thing.

Oh, and speaking of ‘cutting it close’ here’s a handy little travel tip from me to you:

Don’t get a haircut if the barber doesn’t understand the language you speak.

During our brief 2-day stop off in Dresden, we decided it was time to chop the mop. Our CouchSurfing host Joyce told us that all the barber shops required appointments, so we were thrilled when we found a nearby salon that was willing to take a couple of walk-ins. Problem was, the only person in the place that spoke any English was a lady in the middle of getting a perm. She was kind enough to translate our hair cut style requests to the hair stylist.

“Clippers on the side with a #2 guard, and take a little off the top to even it out”

At least I think she did. It came out of her mouth sounding more like:

“Machen Sie diese Touristen sehen aus wie ein Paar von Zirkus-Clowns”

For all I know she could have just as easily been pulling a practical joke on some tourists.

Hopefully I don’t offend any beauticians reading this, but I don’t think cutting a guys hair is really all that difficult. I’m fairly confident that after 30 years of watching people cut my hair, that I could do a pretty darn good job of cutting my own hair — if only I could figure out how to stand behind myself.

Anyways to make a long story about long hair getting shortened short, the lady (who by the way had the hair style of a cockatoo) spent all of 4 minutes with a quick buzz and a few snips and then dusted me off and sent me on my way. Since I had no way to communicate my thoughts…

Thanks for nothing. Now I look like a Swedish punk-ass emo kid, do you have any Rogain?

…I simply paid up and left to go look for a hat. Or a wig.  And wished Jay good luck as he took his turn in the Funny Chair.

Luckily for me I was able to sort of fix my massacred scalp with a set of clippers I had packed. Jay on the other hand was a little less fortunate.

And by the way, having short hair really doesn’t help in the cold weather. Look out China! Here we come!

Authored by: Digital Knowmadd on October 17, 2008.
Filed under: Europe,Germany,Travel | 3 Comments »