Monday, June 21, 2010
Just had my last haircut in Thailand. Just round the corner from our home. Fifteen minutes in and out, number 4 on the sides, a bit off the top, zero chat, 100 baht (about 2 quid), done. I'm not a big one for chat at the barber's, although I can do footie if forced. When I lived in Brixton, I used to go to George's on Coldharbour Lane. He was a big Arsenal fan so that was that sorted. In Tokyo, I went to a little place near my office on Kagurazaka. We would always have the same polite conversation (in my very stilted nihongo) about the Japan team: "Nakata: sugoi jozu", Nakamura, Celtic, ii desu!". In our year back in London in 2005 I started going to a place in Covent Garden. Somewhere between a barber and a hairdresser. Always full, guys leafing through FHM magazines, lots of banter, bit pricey. I stopped going when, after handing over a 20 quid note, the most I've ever paid for a cut, the guy said "Next time you owe me a conversation"! Bloody cheek.