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Confessions of a Greif Whore pt 3 before/after So, feeling less than fulfilled, I went to get my haircut. The girl who cuts my hair, bev, was not there. The shop manager, who was sweeping up, told me that she would be right back. She has a motherly air about her, but I don't like her. Its a point of contention between me and the place that cuts my hair, that I do not want them to wash my hair. I just want a cut. A decent cut. I don't care to have it washed, however, they feel a need to put pressure on me to do so. I'm very atavistic about my haircuts. I like to show loyalty to a particular person if they cut it well. And I tend to go back to the same shop over and over because I'd simply rather not think about it. Ideally, the person I go to would take resposibility for my coifee management and rotate styles everyonce in a while, but I have never been so blessed. Bummed out. I went to T*rget, superstore of supercrap. Man, they have everything in there. I don't know why, but they do. I don't like t*get or, as they say in france 'tar-jay', but I really can't bring myself to go to other megacrap stores. Its the least objectionable. I went to buy some kids clothing for my friend's baby. I wanted to get him something with the crest of my favorite hockey team on it. Get him started on the right foot. Of course, I know nothing of baby clothes, but lucked into some women who picked it out for me. There was a smaller size I thought would have been appropo, but they pushed a particular one on me. I bought it. Its still in my car. Bummed the fuck out. Thinking about how it must have felt to find your brother in the bathtub, blood and brains on the wall. The smell of gunpowder and grey matter hanging in the air. Knowing that its your brother. I waited in line as a white trash clerk hassled me about my unsigned credit card. I produced some other ID to prove I'm me, and moved on in life. And I had tried to be friendly to her, as well. Fucker. As I walked out, I walked past the customer service desk, where I saw a girl I had chatted with around christmas time. Apparently they had moved her up to the customer service desk. "Smile!" I said as I walked past. And she smiled. "I'm bored!" she complained. So I started telling a joke as I walked over. "What did Kermit the Frog say when Jim Henson died?" I said, making eye contact right as I finished the question. She paused. "I don't know, what did he say?" "Nothing." I said quickly. "You're exactly right." she said, laughing. I walked away. "Well, I tried." I said pleasantly. "It worked!" she called after me. Cute girl, that one.
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