My Sexist Trip to the Barbershop

As a new resident of the great town of Metuchen, I decided to try out a local business for a service that is an essential part of my life.

I needed a haircut.

When muh honey and I closed on our house, I took my hometown lawyer aside and I said...

"Rich, now that we are residents of this town, I need to ask you two very important questions."

His face got serious and he said, "Yes?"

I put out my right hand in the shape of a fist and I ripped off my fingers as I listed each question. "Pizza... Haircut."

He mimicked my finger roll and replied, "Roberto's....Luigi's."

Muh honey and I followed up on his first suggestion almost immediately and found a pizza joint that we will be calling home for the rest of our time in Metuchen. The pizza is just plain tremendous!

I risked a public flogging for a poor do and went over to the small barbershop owned by a Italian immigrant named Luigi. Rich told me that it would be quite an experience and he was right.

I walked in at exactly 5:00 p.m. and I was treated to a huge hello and greeting by a tall man with a barbershop shirt, gold chains and a thick Italian accent. His hair was well trimmed and he had a pleasant smile that coordinated nicely with his mustache. It was a welcome like no other. Luigi welcomed me into his fold.

As there was a line to get a hair cut from Luigi, I decided to go with Luigi's broad Italian wife who had an affinity for wearing almost nothing up top to cover her ample 60+ year old bosom. That was ... umm... not the best part of the trip.

She started cutting my hair, and the barbershop converstaion began to focus on the movie on the television set. It was 9 to 5 starring the incomparable Dolly Parton. Did they talk about the merits and quality of the film? No. The converstaion began to hover around the quality of Miss Parton's enormous rack. What made it even more amusing was that the lovely Italian woman that spoke a great deal of broken English was essentially leading the conversation.

I use the word "rack" on purpose. It was frequently used by everyone in the barbershop. It was used more than a day's worth of Howard Stern when he has the girls from Scores on. Rack was used as much as the word "the".

Now... I don't mind all of that... I didn't contribute but I found the whole conversation rather amusing.

What was most amusing was the following exchange. I want to make something very clear. If you have an impression of an Italian immigrant that came over here years ago and has a pretty good grasp of the English accent but remains committed to the accent of his Native Italian tongue, then triple that and imagine everything said by Luigi in a deep voice.

Luigi -- "My friend -- why you look so tired?"
Customer (White guy about 50 in a shirt and tie) -- "I didn't sleep well last night."
Luigi -- "You must go home and hit the rack."
Customer -- "Hit the rack? Isn't the phrase... hit the sack?"
Luigi -- "I know the phrase but where I come from, we don't hit the sack."
Customer -- "Oh"
Luigi -- "A sack is..." and he points to his groin. "A rack is what the great Dolly Parton has."
Customer smiles broadly.
Luigi -- "We hit the rack and fall asleep on those beautiful things. Hitting the sack is... you know."

I actually busted out loud with my laughing. I am not sure why that was all that funny but I laughed pretty loudly.

I will have to go back to the barbershop and get further updates on this highly sexist gentleman. It is a commitment I am willing to make for you... avid reader.