Saturday, June 11, 2011

Day 41: A Haircut

I got a haircut in Rawlings,WY. There was a salon next to the motel, but they had no appointments available, "until Wednesday," the lady behind the counter told me.

"There's a good barber over in the Great Western Bank building. Sixth and Cedar Street."

After a brief search, I found it near the historic Wyoming Penitentiary, on the ground floor of a squat old red brick building, with a striped pole out front.

The barber was a tall, thin older guy of about 75 years.

"When I went to barber school," he said, "the schools were always located in skid row. So the guys you learned on were all bums. The first guy I had to shave was an old drunk who came in dirty and smelling like wine. I was so nervous my hands were shaking. I thought I was going to cut his throat. I cut him up all over, but he was so drunk he didn't even notice."

The barber then cut my hair really short and used a straight razor to clean up the back of my neck and behind the ears. It was the best haircut I've ever had.

BTW, in the photo below the white stuff on the ground isn't snow. It's salt.

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