Everybody here has it. Long hair. Guys and girls, grown men, little boys. Everybody. Which confuses me greatly because haircuts here are a sinfully pleasant experience. For 12 dollars you get coffee and cookies, a handsome trim, a close shave with a straight edge razor and warm lather, a warm towel on your neck, and a head massage with some sort of silk oil afterwards. All this while a buxom lass is pressing her boobies against your back, arms and chest while she works.
Cut and shave. Boobs. head massage. 12 dollars. Amazing.
In Connecticut I was paying a one-eyed balding man with thick forearms twenty dollars to hack at my scalp with rusty sheep shears, and yet everyone back there maintains a much cleaner hairstyle. Why?
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