>My friend Des recently posted a great rant about a hideous article she read in the Washington Post about two douche bags who opened a salon for men. That in and of itself doesn’t bother me too much, but this is no regular salon for men. No way, Jose! This salon hires women to cut men’s hair, do pedicures and manicures, and wax hairy backs, and requires them to wear a bikini as their uniform. This makes me irate.
However, what insults me about this joint is that the women are then trained to be able to talk about sports. Further, when the clients get tired of their blather, they are told to shut up so that men can watch real sports on TV.
Look, there are plenty of women out there who don’t need training when it comes to talking about sports. I’m sorry if we don’t happen to look good in bikinis. Most of us sports fans enjoy a hot dog or two while we cheer our team on.
Although, incidentally, it might not be bad if all people who cut hair would shut up every once in a while. Then the burned out hippie guy who is having a coiled snake tattooed up his entire leg who cuts my hair would not say scary racist things that make me not want to go back there ever again. I can deal with the tattoo, and in fact I am glad that Des told me he was getting one because I wondered why he shaved his legs. (Not that there’s anything wrong with men shaving their legs; I was just curious why he did.) I can deal with the fact that he seems to suffer from acid flashbacks while he uses sharp objects on me. But his disturbing casual racism (he told another friend that the guy renovating the apartment next door did not know what he was doing because he is black, and therefore unskilled and homeless) is preventing me from going back for a good, affordable haircut. I gotta draw the line somewhere.