Haircut part 2

The thing is that I have to get my hair cut. There's no way around it. So I ventured out to the same SuperCuts, expecting the worst. I'll give you the Amazon review:
Pros: Lady asked me how I wanted my hair cut, how to trim the neck, offered no gel.
Cons: Wasted a whole hour waiting and getting a cut.

I used to be able to spend a good hour reading Sports Illustrated back in College. It could've been because I was procrastinating writing a paper, studying for an exam, or something of that nature. But the most recent issue didn't cut it. The MLS Cup, CC Sabathia, the Steelers vs Pats pick, even No QB offense. That was the best it.

I rummaged through the magazine bin and was thinking about Glamor, but they called my name. I guess my make-over has to wait another couple of months.

Drowning in "culture"

I have visited LA many, many times and I don't mean as a tourist. I had done grocery shopping, both at the chains as well as the mom & pop Arme stores. So it wasn't like I didn't know that shopkeepers and the people they hire converse in Armenian as their main trade language.

I have to preface this post by reiterating that I grew up on the east coast and, although fluent in Armenian, I conduct business in English. Unless I know that the person across the counter does not understand a word I'm saying. I get it that the person who has opened a deli and sells lavash or ghormeh sabzee may not necessarily be as comfortable with English as I.

But my recent experience at Supercuts has stuck with me. Like many people living in Glendale, I need to get my haircut from time to time. I don't need a fancy-shmancy salon to cut my hair. The Puerto Rican lady around the corner in NY did a great job and I figured Supercuts would be as good. Being new to the area, I looked up the nearest location on the web. Glendale Ave in Glendale (the double whammy), less than 3 miles from our home.

Let me back into the data here. Of the almost 200K residents of Glendale, 46% are non-white. If we then say that half of the rest are Armenian, we can safely asy that at least 25% of the city's population is Armo. Even simpler, if a while guy walks into you store, there's a 50-50 chance he's Armo.

So there I am walking into Supercuts and giving my REAL name. Odds are looking better for Supercuts lady to guess my ethnic origin. I get a copy of last decade's Sports Illustrated and start reading about how Lance Armstrong won the Tour de France.

"Armodad, jahn?"

I lookup, thinking that a friend/relative that I haven't seen since I was 8 has come into Supercuts and has recognized me. This was pre Halloween Freakout, but it could happen. It's the haircut lady! Quick, quick. Do I know this woman? Did she recognize me from my blog picture (LOL, ROTF)?

Nothing's registering. I get up and walk to the chair. She has obviously engaged me in Armenian, so what do I do? She asks me how I want my hair cut (in Armenian). I tell her number 3 on the sides and even out the top. I had to force it out in Armenian. What the hell?! I double check the sign on the door: "SUPERCUTS" not Armocuts, not Supermahz, nor anything like that. Whatever, go with the flow, dude. This is Cali...

Don't want to get into the conversation, but luckily it was minimal. I missed the Puerto Rican lady who speaks very little English. "You like numero tres on side. ¿No?" Then silence for 10 minutes. "okay". Love it!

The Supercuts lady actually does a good job, but she's not done. She takes a fistfull of jell and is coming towards me.

Armodad: No jell, please
Supercut Lady: No jell?
A: No
S: ok

She then wipes of most of the jell on a towel and then runs her fingers through my hair before I can say anything. I wonder if she would have done that if this had been NY, Boston OR if I was not Armenian. My guess is probably not.

What is up with that, people. Anyone care to comment?

S's haircut

MLW has given me the day off. It's been great so far. I messed around with this blog business, setup my twitter account, and made myself some foul (pronounced fool), which is baked chick peas with cumin and garlic. It was a very lazy morning and I appreciate getting the time to do some stuff for me.

When I called MLW, they were on their way back and looking to get S a haircut around the corner. I went downstairs to join them and captured these shots of the glam-girls at Prestige Salon:


It seems they had a great time at the Metropolitan Museum and were ready for some girly-girl things. I was the official photographer for the event. We then treated ourselves to some pizza at La Famiglia.