Worst. Haircut. EVER.

So I know it’s my own fault because I always look for the absolute cheapest haircut I can find. I was doing so great in Greenpoint; Oralis did a great job, really knew my hair, and best of all, wasn’t too talkative. (Believe it or not, I really prefer a limited amount of conversation when I’m getting my hair cut.) Not to mention that the salon was located near the most amazing donut shop.

Then one day I called to schedule, and was told that Oralis had moved to Miami. Next haircut I got with the owner, so that was fine, but then after that there was a New Guy. Some of you may remember the lovely line on my neck where his clippers had dug in. I went back one more time after that, but skipped the clippers. Then it was back to Supercuts, because coupons!

Supercuts has been hit or miss, which is fine because it’s what I’m used to my entire life. Cheap haircut, might come out okay, might not come out that great, but hey, cheap haircut!!!

So tonight I walked in and there were two people working, neither of whom I had seen before. At first glance, I knew who I hoped would be cutting my hair.

Spoiler alert: I got the other one.

I thought we started out okay, until I realized that she was cutting one side of my hair shorter than the other. Okay, maybe she’ll fix it. I had asked to have the bottom back cut with a #3 clipper, and at first I don’t think she sliced me (that came later). Her scissors were dull, though, to the point that she commented, “I don’t know what’s going on with these scissors”. Ummm…you cut hair. I would think good scissors would be important… but what do I know?!

I was watching to see if she was going to even out the sides, sensing that this was not going to end well. At this point, I have to admit that I was excited because I knew this was going to be a great story…

I should mention that when I sat down, she actually didn’t start cutting my hair for a few minutes because she was listening to this radio show that was on and wanted to hear what was happening. No biggie, I didn’t have to be anywhere, but still.

She was talkative, but more “TMI” than awkward. First she had her diatribe about the radio bit (woman caught her husband cheating; cue “all men are awful” commentary, which I don’t disagree, but it was a little awkward with the male stylist cutting a man’s hair right next to us). This led to a conversation about how rich this woman was going to get when she divorced her cheating husband. Yada yada yada, different stories about money and the other stylist chiming in about how people who get a lot of money usually blow it. He gave two examples of this, one of a kid who didn’t do right by his mother, and she glommed on to that statement, saying “Your parents are pretty much the next thing to God, since they gave you life”. Now, she wasn’t saying this directly to me, but as you can imagine, I felt slightly attacked, especially when she quoted the 4th commandment in its entirety. But oh well, she didn’t know.

From there, the conversation trailed off, and she started talking about how tired she was. “I feel like I’m about to fall over…ha ha ha, I don’t even know what I’m doing with your hair!” (this while she was working on the back of my head, which turned out to be the least of my problems.) “I’m so tired; I’m beyond exhausted.”

I mentioned above that she hadn’t shredded my neck; however, towards the end she seemed to be haphazardly swiping at the back of my neck with the clippers.

And yep, that’s exactly what she was doing:


close-up of back of neck nicked by clippers

(meh, it’s just a flesh wound…)

But then she continued… “shaping”?! the sides. Still had the clippers out, and it’s hard to see from the pictures, but she did some random jagged thing on both sides (which I think are probably still not the same length anyway). She went beyond the pink part of my face (the part that sees the sun) and shaved past that to where I am now going to have to strategically apply sunscreen.

(I can’t get a good picture of it, but the primary problem with this haircut is what she did to the sides. Because I don’t KNOW what she did to the sides. Or why she did it. Or how she has a hairdresser’s license…but I digress.)

Close-up of side of head with uneven haircut

And then there was the front of the hair, which she really didn’t cut at all…but the way things were going, I didn’t think it was wise to request that she continue cutting.

top of woman's face with hair covering eyes

So much grey…

As I sit here, I am still in a bemused sort of shock, because seriously, this is probably the worst haircut I’ve ever had. And I don’t even know how or where I would begin to get it remedied, especially the fiasco with the sides.

But I have a feeling getting it fixed will probably cost more than $20…

Ah, it’ll grow.

The Pigeon Man of Ocean Parkway

Part of the adventure of living in a new neighborhood is in getting to know what kind of people you are surrounded by. When I moved in April, I was in a position where I ran out of time and felt like I had to “settle” for this apartment/location. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a lovely neighborhood-but that’s just it. It’s a little TOO lovely for me. And not just because I don’t have a Target within walking distance, although that doesn’t help…

It’s fine, and it’s convenient, and safe, and it’s where I live, at least for now. But it lacks a certain grit or character that I would hope for in a neighborhood. Or at least I thought it did…

People still post signs on street light poles, which also gives you a sense of who is around you. No “se rentan cuartos” signs here; instead, there is a sign asking for the return of a lost scooter. The naive optimism of the person who posted this boggles my mind. First of all, that’s not how you spell “stolen”…

Another sign advertising a lice remedy was posted on a pole directly across from the local elementary school. Well-played.

But the sign that really caught my eye was this one:

Ah, yes. Of course they call him “the Pigeon Man”. I had seen him once or twice near the park. It’s hard not to notice someone who has managed to connect with winged rats Bert’s favorite bird so seamlessly. The pigeons would land on his arm and were literally eating right out of his hand. I was too intrigued by him at the time to be grossed out.

A few weeks later, the sign appeared. Forgetting for a split second that pigeons are rats with wings, I was angry, annoyed. It’s remarkable, really, what he does. Who is it really hurting? Besides the whole “carrying disease” thing, I mean. But that doesn’t distinguish them in any way from the subway railing or your morning coffee. It’s New York, kids. Build up that immunity.

All was not lost, however. A week after the first sign appeared, I was walking to the train and noticed there had been a slight edit…

I guess there’s hope for my new neighborhood yet. Like they say, you can’t keep a good (pigeon) man down…

To quote Charlie Brown…


So there I was, refilling my MetroCard at the machine, and suddenly a rat comes scurrying by with what appears to be a Sicilian slice (which is half the rat’s size) in its mouth. I made the appropriate freaking-out, shuddery sounds, and glanced at the guy at the next machine. He made no indication that he had heard me, or seen anything…either his music was too loud or he thought I was nuts…or maybe guys are just good at ignoring what’s in their peripheral vision on account of urinals?!

(Wait, what?!)

Then I start walking towards the stairs and I. see. another. rat. coming down the staircase. I decided to let him go first, because I’m polite like that. I was torn between wanting to scream and wanting to record it…because I care about you, my reader(s), and I want you to be able to experience the “fun” things I experience.

Of course, in my freaked-out state, I didn’t capture it on video very well, but if you watch in the first two seconds, you will see him or her…


​The woman walking up the stairs behind me mentioned that she sees them every night, and then said something that made me grin…”I guess they have to get home too!”

Yeah. How about you STAY home, rodents? I don’t mind you when you’re hanging out on the subway tracks, but I’d rather not have you commuting alongside me. Kthxbai.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that…

So I was walking down the street in Greenpoint today, on my way to my awesome cheap haircut place

An interesting-looking man was handing out some kind of promotional postcards on the street (the kind of job that I picture myself being forced to take whenever I get on my “OMG I AM GOING TO BE HOMELESS!!!” anxiety spiral…) He was an older guy, and well, he looked like the type of person for whom handing out fliers (flyers?!) would be one of a limited number of career choices.

I was feeling altruistic, so I accepted the postcard even though it was for an eyebrow threading place. The guy smiled and said, “Hey…you know that show Orange new Black?* You look like the girl from that show.”

I smiled and said, “Really? Which one?”

“You know that show? You can see it on Netflix. You look just like that girl…she’s one of the inmates…”

(ummm, correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t 98% of the females on that show inmates?)

“Sure, I know the show, but which woman?”

“You look just like her. Go back and watch Season One.”

I did the only thing I could do, which was to say, “Thanks, I think?!” and kept walking.

I wish he was talking about Alex, although I thought Lorna was more likely…

I just hope he wasn’t referring to Crazy Eyes…

(*to be fair, I can’t remember now if he said “Orange is the Black” or something else, but suffice to say that he was not able to actually pronounce the full name of the show…)