Two Bits

If you're anything like me (and for your sake, I hope you're not), you probably have certain things in your life that you've grown accustomed to. We are all creatures of habit to some extent. And so it is that one of the things I had to give up as a result of my relocation to Stockholm was my favorite (read: only) barbershop.

I am now getting a vivid reminder that I really shouldn't take such things for granted.

You see, I'd been getting haircuts in one place—and only one place—throughout all of graduate school. This is a true old-time barber shop: red-and-white candy-striped barber pole out front (but no leeches, thank goodness), four chairs, a mirror along the opposite wall, stack of Playboys next to the cash register. In fact, I always got my hair cut by the same person, a jocular guy named Carlos who has a steady supply of dirty jokes and amazing ability to remember his customers' names. The first time I went in there—on the enthusiastic recommendation of a friend from high school who'd been there as an undergrad—I tried to tell him what I wanted, but he shushed me up and refused to listen... and then proceeded to give me exactly the haircut I'd wanted anyway. It was one of about two places in town where I could walk in the door, get greeted by first name, ask for "the usual," and get exactly what I wanted. At one point, I started to wonder if maybe Carlos just gave the same haircut to everyone, but no: I watched carefully the next time I was there, and he really does remember exactly how I like mine cut, which was clearly different from the haircut he gave to the guy who was in his chair right before me.

Well, I've been here in Stockholm long enough that my hair is becoming pretty unruly, and I'm going to have to do something about it soon; I don't do the rockstar thing very well.. Looking around my neighborhood, however, I'm starting to think maybe I might want to learn. Most of the frisör salons here in Söder seem to cater to a somewhat... uh... different crowd than my old place. There is, for instance, a hair salon a few blocks away from here that I could try. Inexplicably, it is named "Cut the Crap."

(Why they chose that particular phrase from the American lexicon, I have no idea. For some reason, there seems to be quite a bit of such arbitrary, nonsensical importation of random phrases from American English into Swedish, at least around Stockholm. This attraction is a complete mystery to me.) I get the feeling that if I walk into CTC, or any of a dozen others around here just like it, and I ask for "the usual," I might end up looking like some German avant-garde television personality. I'm not even sure there is a usual at these places, but if there is, I'm pretty sure it isn't my idea of "usual."

Still, I can only go without a haircut for so long, so I suppose I'll have to go through with this some time soon. If you're reading this, I implore you: think kind, stylish thoughts. Please. And if you happen to be walking around Söder, and you see a somewhat American-looking guy with a bandana inexplicably tied around his head, so that he vaguely resembles either a pirate arrrrr! or a lobotomy patient, please go easy on him.

After all, he's just gotten the usual.