The Haircut - a blog from Mark

I think one of the most intimidating experiences for me in Paris is getting a haircut.  For the past couple of weeks I have been itching to get my haircut.  Of course we were traveling, so the opportunity didn't exist. Therefore I targeted today as the day.

To prepare for the event, I spoke to my French tutor about how to manage the experience - je voudrais faire couper mes cheveaux courts - I would like my hair cut short.  Next, Jill and I took a walk to scope out potential places.  Now bear in mind there are elle et lui (hers & his).  Most of these places require reservations and are not your typical upstate NY barber shops, so you can't just walk in anywhere.  Fortunately there is an old school barber right around the corner from us.  Great - my plan was to get up Saturday morning, have coffee with Jill, breakfast and walk over for an old fashion clipper and scissors haircut.

My plan was perfect until I got to the shop and it was unexplainably closed.  Yikes, now I have to go to my fall back plan - go around to the various other places to find one that can understand my sloppy French AND have a time slot.

So after lunch Jill and I walk around the neighborhood looking for a "masculine coiffure".  Those words alone are enough to let my hair grow out like in 1979.  But I'm determined, so I start the search.  We walk by the first two shops because they look to "unbarber shop" to me.  The third looks promising - I practice my line a few times and walk in.  There were 3 barbers and all them were busy.  When I walked in, one by the door asked if he could assist me.  I started with "je voudrais (and then I panicked) a haircut".  Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at me, like I said a bad word.  After a few awkward seconds, one of the old guys spoke English and told me they were fully booked for the day.  Onward to the next shop...

Only a block away we find a place.  I walked in, laid my line on the guy at the counter with a few technical mistakes, but still understandable.  Fortunately they had a slot and I was able to get my haircut.  They shampoo your hair before the haircutting begins and offered us coffee two or three times.  After all the anxiety leading up to it, it was a good experience and a nice haircut. The lady who cut my hair let me practice my French and was very quick to tell me she could comprehend me (of course it could be the tip she was setting up for).  Nonetheless it made my day.

So ends another adventure in Paris.