spiker's blog: "Pratfalls"

I finally managed to visit the barber shop today.  I like my barber shop.  Frank has owned the shop for almost 30 years.  He moved to Canada from Italy in the sixties and set his shop up here on the western end of Lake Ontario and watched a town grow up around him.  He has a strong Italian accent but he's easy to understand and he'll chat if you want.  He has four other full-time barbers that work with him and I've never had to queue for a haircut.

Today, all the barbers were there with only one other client.  Most of them were watching a soccer game on the T.V. and commenting on the game.  One of the barbers, Luigi got off his chair and offered it to me with his usual big smile.  Luigi is the oldest and his accent is even thicker.  He speaks English well enough to carry on a conversation and to cut hair.  He was snipping away when his cellphone rang.  He chatted in Italian and then apologised when he hung up. 

"No worries, I'm in no rush".

He explained that it's his grandson's birthday and also his wedding anniversary.  His 51st wedding anniversary!! 

"You've been married 51 years?  Geez, you get less than that for murder!"

"That's what I always say to her!", he laughed.  "We've been with each other 53 years, and I have a son who's 53 years old.  I was twenty and she was eighteen when we had him."

"So it's your wedding anniversary and you come in to work between Christmas and New Year?"

"What am I gonna do?", he retorted with his usual flourish.

"I dunno - maybe take her to a restaurant.  You like Italian?", I asked with a grin.

"She makes the best and she loves to cook, so why go anywhere?"

He finished the cut but I could tell he still wanted to chat, so he got the clippers out for another few final adjustments.  Then he lathered around my ears and neck and got out the straight razor.  he shaved one side when his phone rang again.  This time, he disappeared into the staff room to finish the call.  He came back after a couple of minutes and continued shaving the other side.

"You know, we still fight", he said with a grin, followed by a curious, wistful look.

"So how old is your grandson today?"

"Twenty-three!"

"Blimey!  You may be a great-grandfather soon!" 

"I should be already many years if they were more like me", he quipped with a grin.

Another proper haircut from a proper barber - none of these unisex haircutters for me.  I thanked him and wished them all a Happy New Year and left the shop.

I hope I'm still having make up sex when I'm 73...