What can I talk of now? Memories?
Syria? I run out of things..
So, here's a little diary for today.
December 1 2015:
Dearest Diary...
Today I woke up too damn early as I was
planning on busily sleeping till later on. Ah well, if I'm up I'm up
and might as well get the day started. First and foremost, take a
piss. Add that to the other two I had to take during the night for
eating salty foods the night before. After that, flip on stereo,
computer; have a look out the window and by that time I was so tired
I had to sit down. Har! Har!
Actually, I had to do all those boring
house wifey things that weren't getting done before but now I have
the free time. Laundry, buy some food as the fridge is bare, sort out
the mail, etc. Living alone means I have no other to help with these
things so it's up to me. If not, they sit there till I can get around
to them. Also, I was planning on getting my hair cut as it was
really very long now. I was starting to look like an 1850's New
England School house teacher. Had I a rumpled black coat and hat, I
could pull the look off. I wonder how you girls deal with hair in
your eyes since you generally have longer hair? I find that it stings
the hell out of your eyeballs if not trimmed up well enough. Those
little hair ends poke like little knives.
I still go to a “real” barbershop.
The ones you can imagine in your mind where it's all men and the
walls have pictures of sports heroes, the magazines are either Guns &
Ammo or the sluttiest women's fashion magazines meant to titillate
the guys, who are waiting their turn. “Vogue” is a good one for
that. I swear models are younger now, there was some girl, probably
14, biting on a nekclace of pearls while she showed off some summer
dress, on a beach in Turks and Caicos. I guess when you hit 22 in the
fashion industry, you're far “too old.”
I at times used to go to those Miss
Fifi's Hair Surgeon boutiques where they charge you $$$$ to just
“cut” my hair. After that I'm peppered to buy hair treatment
products that cost an arm and a leg. I've only bought one, Vidal
Sassoon shampoo...only because it smelt like candied coconuts. But I
got tired of paying out that kind of money for a cut so I found my
old barbershop, Lanni's.
My barber there is a young man and we
hop from subject to subject on whatever. Alot of times about 4
wheeling, motorcycle and cars. But today for some reason, we were
discussing strip clubs and his generation's lucky fact that those
girls in his cohort are aggressive as hell. When I was his age,
getting a girl to loosen up was like opening a live mussel, you
needed an oyster knife.
He then mentioned that it was soo easy
to find girls now. He started his dating scene when Facebook was
coming online and he told me the boys would all hunt the girls down
during the day during school and then meet up at Emerald Square mall
during the night.
“Some nights, we guys could get six
to seven of them to show up at the food court. The problem was that
their Mom's or Dad's would pick them around 9 or 10 to go home...but
some of them were sneakier than that and they were the fun ones.”
I sat there and thought all I had when
I was 16 was a rotary phone...and no oyster knife.
I then mention something I had heard
about, but since I'm older now and “not with it” when it comes to
the latest fads in tech, that there's something called “Tinder”
out there.
“Awwww DUDE! That's the BEST one! YOU
GOTTA get it!” He was so enthusiastic about it too that the guy in
the nest stall getting his hair cut gave his thumb's up when he
overheard it.
“Hell, they're such pigs! All you do
is swipe left or right on their pictures, whether you think they're
cute or not and if they respond to you in kind,
you can meet up!” Not only that, you can put in the parameter of
just say you want to meet people in a 5 mile radius. It's soo cool!”
I then mention, ”I bet....bring a
condom.”
“Wear five” the kid tells me.
He goes on rather cynically and with a
knowing glance at me and further says. “You're generation opened
the door....we are the ones feasting on it....the girls our age are
way open and ready.”
Again I think if was born into the
Tinder Age, say if I was just 18, I wouldn't need an oyster knife at
all. Lucky bastards.
“There's a drawback at times.” The
barber goes on. “I once met a high school teacher from Tolman on
it.”
“Isn't that like trying to date your
Mom?” I ask.
“No! No! She was just four years
older than me but I get the point..it was weird going out with my
English teacher from a few years back.”
I'd like to have Tinder-ed my own gov't
studies teacher way back then...
Lanni's. Still a Men's Club
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