Salon Da Noi

This Thanksgiving weekend I stayed at the apartment and watched massive amounts of TV. Seriously, there's a Marc-shaped inprint in our couch from the countless hours I spent watching: Caddyshack (which I'd never seen), The Anniversary Party, the ENTIRE first season of Californication, and various other shows and movies. Jason informed me, during one of our many Scrabble games, that the funniest scene in Caddyshack--the one where Chevy Chase and Bill Murray are just talking in Bill Murray's character's hovel--was completely improvised! Those two are truly great funny men.

For the actual day, Mike invited me to his place for Thanksgiving dinner, complements of his Mom! It was fantastic, and it was really nice getting to spend the actual day with other people.

But after we gorged ourselves silly on turkey, ham, green-bean casserole, etc. I went back home and watched some more TV. Now, as you know, I've been jonesin' for a haircut for sometime. Needing to get out of the apartment for at least a little while, I went starting walking until I found this place called Salon Da Noi (which means "Salon by Us" in Italian). "A Communist Salon," I thought to myself, "I support the Revolution, let's check it out!" I happened to be wearing a hat when I walked in, and I feel like whenever people who cut hair see someone walk in with a hat they internally roll their eyes and think "why bother? he's just going to put that stupid hat back on when he leaves." They didn't seem too worried about it though.

There was a walk-in spot available and I got my hair cut by Concetta. Let me back up for a second. Remember the haircut I got in Pittsburgh? I mention it in the last post about getting my haircut. Well, a woman at that place where I got my haircut once spent the entire session of cutting my hair telling me that I have a "baby face." I think I'm still reeling from that comment, if for no other reason than it makes me think that no one my age will ever think of me as an adult. Ok, back to Concetta--you probably see where this is going. One of the first (and only) things Concetta says to me, you guessed it: You should wear your hair shorter, you have a baby face, like me. I liked that she modified the statement by mentioning her own baby face, but it was still annoying. I don't remember enough Italian to try to speak with her in her native tongue, nor did I want to bother after the baby face comment, so we spent most of the haircut in silence. That was, until the end, when I had to tell her three to five times that the sides were uneven.

That said, I walked out really liking the haircut. And though she told me I look like a baby, she told me what haircut I should have that works best for me. No one, NO ONE has ever done that, even when I asked, even when I paid $80 for a haircut. Because the thing is, stylists generally want to make you happy, so if you walk in saying that you want to look like Dustin Diamond in 1992, they'll happily do it! Because if you leave with what you want you won't be unsatisfied, and if you're satisfied then you'll come back. Makes sense. But no, Concetta won't bullshit you, and that's why I scheduled my next 2 months of haircuts in advance.