Darlin' don't you go and cut your hair....

dan's barber shop 3
Originally uploaded by dlew022.

With the 3 day Memorial Day weekend upon us, I set out to do what any other bored American male should do on a 3 day weekend: Drink beer.

I started off at McNears where local radio personalities Sarah and the oh-so-cleverly named "No Name" were doing a radio shin dig. I hate their show, but they often have Kevin Smith on so I occasionally listen. Plus, my band is having their CD release there June 11 and we wanted to hand out postcards. See! I have an excuse for slumming it with piss poor radio personalities.

The promoting of the show went really, really well and I hope it helps our draw. But....people who are fans of radio personalities are fucking weird. I understand it's the job of local radio people to make
the show feel like it belongs to the fans. But, and I've noticed this when listening as well, you don't actually know these hosts. They aren't your "friend." Still, over 200 people crammed in this little party room to hob-nob with No-Name and other b-list radio personalities and it was just plain creepy. I saw 2 or 3 girls come up to these radio hosts and go "Ohh, No-Name...I'm Jamie -Lee, I called last month about the monsoon season in Tibet" (or whatever) and these poor shmoes have to pretend like they give a shit. It was sad. Anyway...

After that, I cruised over to my favorite local hang-out which will remain nameless due to the nature of the following story. The person involved could get mad at me. The place has really good beer and I can sometimes manage to snap off a halfway decent conversation about music or movies there. Key word: sometimes. So after 2-3 pints, the head chef comes out. She and I have a love/hate relationship. I always manage to say just the wrong thing and when I do, she smells blood in the water and never lets me off the hook. Oh, by the way, she's a full-on butch lesbian. Insert typical "but that's cool with me" backpedalling here..but it's true. I really don't care and I actually like her quite a bit.

So, she walks out of the kitchen looking very peppy and kind of...trim or...glowing. I go, "oh, _____ you seem really happy. You look really trim or sleek or something. Did you get a haircut? She laughs and tells me, "No...I just got back from having my breasts removed." Gulp. This was done for purely aesthetic purposes by the way and I have to admit, the intended look definitely happened. It just struck me as funny that one persons breast removal is another guys haircut.