Opps. I Mean, Oops. 8 March 2000

7:49 PM: New hair! I will show you later if I can find that camera. It's bery berry, this bright shiny purplish-kinda red, which will turn into we'll-find-out. Color by Nikas, who was a completely nice guy with a big cool tattoo on his arm and, surprise, a very fashionable haircut. He made quite a production out of the whole thing, which I guess was the point of having people come in to let him practice on them. I went through a book of hair swatches with him, we talked about the various colors and dyes and whatnot, I finally settled on one shade, and he went off to mix it. Next I'll be picking furniture for my head.

The best part, though, was The Device. The Device looked like a hydrocephalic robot, or maybe a short version of the cargo-lifter suit that Ripley used in Aliens - only it rolled instead of walked. What it actually was, was a three-armed heater & air-blower. The modern equivalent of those big brain-eating chairs, I guess. It can't touch your head, of course, because it's too hot and your head is covered by a sort of condom while the color sets. The cotton rope that he wrapped around my head, to fit the rim of the head condom on, was the crowning touch. Er, so to speak. Silliest looking thing that has ever been on my head, and that's in the face of some fair competition. So he wheeled The Device out of its cage and positioned it behind and around my head, and then I sat there for a half hour, chemicals burning into my scalp while my head was being roasted, drinking tea and reading the NY Times and saying La di da.

Many cute hair-related employees, of course. Cute place, too. Faux partial restoration - they did an artificially "damaged" paint job, and then put oddly-shaped cutout bits of wallpaper on top of it and messed with the edges to make it look as if the wallpaper was what was originally there, and the bad paint job was covering it. Seems like a lot of trouble to go through to make it look like your average West Oakland un-fixed-up-yet house, but hey. Rich lady brought her little girls in to have their golden locks trimmed, and though they were still cute just from being kids, you could already tell that the little girl was on her way to being an incredibly obnoxious spoiled rich fuck. Sad, really.

Then I had a Double Whopper with Cheese and got way too wet.

Willfully blind self-indulgent nebbish or amusingly quirky old coot? And how bout that local sports team? Discuss among yourselves.

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All names are fake, most places are real, the author is definitely unreliable but it's all in good fun. Yep. © 1998-1999 Lighthouse for the Deaf. All rights reserved and stuff. The motto at the top of the page is a graffito I saw on Brunswick Street in Melbourne.