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The Cody Blog: Needing a New Barber...er, Hairstylist

Tuesday, May 24, 2005

Needing a New Barber...er, Hairstylist

Speaking of illegal drugs, I sometimes jokingly lament how I've almost never been even offered drugs in my life (older brother trying to get me to smoke pot with him when I was 12 or whatever notwithstanding). I mean, I do happen to wear my heart on my sleeve most of the time so maybe people who know me just know that I'm not interested or something.

But a few weeks ago, I was in Washington Square Park watching my boy, James Altucher destroy some wannabe chess players, when some homeless-looking dude sitting across from me at a vacant chess table hollers out to somebody walking by, "Yo, come over here, I know you're looking for me."

So some dude comes over and sits next to this homeless-looking dude. "How much?" he asks? Homeless guy says, "Five."

"Okay," says the other guy. Homeless guy: "Scoot over here close, man. Closer. Closer, I don't want nobody seeing nothing."

Now, I, as this supposedly worldly experienced and traveled person, start freaking out, thinking these two guys were about to engage in some discreet sexual act or something! I mean, I had no idea, all I knew was some guy was scooting in really closely to the guy across from me for five bucks. So I like get up and am trying to watch James as I walk away from that bench.

Then the homeless dude's customer gets up and the homeless guy starts hollering at someone else. And I finally get it -- he's dealing some sorta drug. I sit back down and watch James play a couple games over a 15 minute or so span of time. I'm sitting there in jeans, a jean jacket and some trendy T-shirt with my long hair and all. And would you believe, the homeless guy must have done 3 or 4 deals in that time span...yet he never bothered to even ask me if I were interested (I wouldn't have been, of course, but, come on, how could he not even ask!)

In the be-careful-what-you-wish-for category, a couple weeks ago my hairstylist (gawd, I can't bring myself to call that guy a barber, you know? Too trendy, and all -- what have I become...a metrosexual? Alas, I digress.) tells me story after story while he's cutting my locks about him doing coke and "banging" customers and students in the neighborhood. I suppose that was my cue to ask for drugs. I didn't. And I won't be going back there again. I wonder why he thought I'd be interested.

Anybody know a good barber?

7 Comments:

Blogger BelowTheCrowd said...

Got a great one, but she's in Beverly Hills.

Have had similar experiences before. A recent one involved a tanning salon. Don't usually go to those places, but I was white as a ghost and I'm about to do an outdoor skills class in a week or so, where I know I'll burn if I don't get some sort of a base.

So I went to the salon, bought a small package and proceeded to try to get a "base coat" over the course of a couple of days.

Went in late one evening. Only one girl working there. She checked me in, pointed me in the right direction and punched my card.

As I was getting undressed, there was a knock on the door. I asked what it was, and the girl on the other side asked me if I'd like "anything extra." I figured she was just trying to sell me more of that coconut and pineapple tanning goop, went about my tanning business and gave it little thought.

On the way out, the girl again said, that if I ever wanted "anything extra" she could take care of it if I came in close to closing time.

It didn't occur to me until after I left what she was really offering. I had only one session left on my punch card so I just wrote it off and found another place to go instead.

I've had a few other experiences like this, mostly when I traveled on business. Is there something written on my forehead that says "looking for a good time???"

-btc

5/24/2005 03:48:00 PM  
Blogger Quant Trader said...

The first time I was solicited to buy crack. I'm walking out of a club in downtown Portland,OR. This guy comes up to us..."Hey...hey are you guys cool?"..."Uh yeah"..."Wanna buy some crack?". Leaving me asking myself the same question I always ask myself whenever this has happened: What the fuck am I doing or wearing that would make someone think I am the type of person that want to buy crack? I was wearing nice clothes...

5/24/2005 03:50:00 PM  
Anonymous joeblue3 said...

You think "hairstylist" is better than "barber"?? That's like saying that you buy your threads from your "haberdasher" or your "sartorial consultant".

That's a good call though on what to call your "stylist". I usually fumble it out with a "the dude who cuts my hair."

I did a bunch of drugs in college recreationally (you know, like frisbee golf) but was never a "user" that was marketed to. I always wondered why though.

I drove a jeep with the top down (even when raining), I had long hair and listened to the Grateful Dead and Snoop Dogg. Hell, I even wore birkenstocks.(Was I a cliche or what?)

If I looked like that and they weren't prospecting me on some mushrooms or hempus, then who were they calling on??

What does a guy have to do to get some customer service?

5/24/2005 03:53:00 PM  
Anonymous beaky777 said...

grow it out like I did. long hair is a great way to stand out in a sea of premature baldys with goatees.

5/24/2005 04:27:00 PM  
Anonymous griffj said...

Cody, the guy thought you were another dealer!!! Having gone to NYU and cruzed WSP many a time, you in your Tijuana tuxedo and hip t with longer hair and a bit older than the undergrad crowd, were the perfect guy with the good stuff. The homeless guys always sold junk.

5/25/2005 11:23:00 AM  
Blogger BelowTheCrowd said...

My grandparent's place was at 29 Washington Square (NW corner of the park). I used to play in that playground.

Not sure why this is relevant, but that seems like such an innocent time. Realistically I know NYC was a lot worse in the late 60s and 70s than it is today.

5/25/2005 03:15:00 PM  
Blogger The Unknown Broker said...

You think you have problems? I'm so old that when I venture into public venues people always sidle up to me and offer Viagra. Or Depends diapers (XXL). Or some black market Lawrence Welk records.

Boy Scouts are always offering to help me cross the street. "There, there old timer. Don't worry. We'll get you back to the home in time for tapioca night."

5/26/2005 06:50:00 AM  

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