Short Back and Sides (15 page)

Customer:
It's like that, all right. I spent days surfing the web, and no-one said anything. One day they had a meeting, and there were ten people at it. They ordered thirty sandwiches at four euro a pop—for ten people! I asked why they ordered so much and was told they got a selection, ‘cause not everyone likes the same. So why don't they just ask what people want before they order! It's nuts! So then they asked me to stay on when I finish work experience.

Barber:
Are you going to?

Customer:
No, I told them I'd like to work for a living!

2 June 2010

Customer:
My daughter is a lawyer, and she was working in town a few weeks ago. She had to stay in for lunch, so she ordered a pizza with some friends. When it arrived she saw that the lad who delivered it had passed the bar with her. Now he's delivering pizza!

Barber:
We could all be delivering pizza soon, the way things are going.

3 June 2010

The phone rang. I answered it, and as soon as I had said, ‘Hello. You're through to the barber shop,' the caller hung up. I went back to the customer whose hair I was cutting and told him what had happened . . .

Barber:
That's the fourth time today: people keep ringing and hanging up. It happens all the time!
Customer:
I do that myself to see if you're open.

Barber:
What! Why don't you say anything?

Customer:
Well, I'd feel pretty stupid saying, ‘Hello, are you open?' So I just hang up and come down!

Barber:
The mystery is solved!

4 June 2010

A customer told me his granddad, Mr Murphy, wasn't well, and the doctor was called. After examining the patient, the doctor asked a few questions . . .

‘So,' the doctor says, ‘talk me through a normal day from the time you get up in the morning.'

My granddad tells him he gets up and has breakfast. Then he says, ‘I ramble down to the pub for one or two and pick up a paper.'

‘What do you do after that?' asks the doctor.

‘I'd go home for something to eat, then, around lunchtime.'

‘Very good,' says the doctor. ‘And then after lunch what would you do?'

‘Well, I'd ramble down to the pub for one or two, you know—watch the horses on the telly.'

‘Well, when someone says one or two drinks it tends to be more. Anyway, what do you do then?'

‘Ah, I'd stay there till my tea was ready, and I'd go home.'

‘And then after tea what would you do?'

‘If there's nothing on the telly I'd ramble down to the pub for one or two and a bit of a chat. You know yourself.'

‘And is that what you would do most days?'

‘Yeah, most days.'

‘Well, I have news for you, Mr Murphy: you're an alcoholic!'

‘Alcoholic? Ah, no,' he says, almost laughing. ‘Sure I just ramble down for one or two!'

5 June 2010

There's a new style this year among the students that's becoming known as the ‘exam beard'! They're so focused on their studies that shaving isn't a priority. Some of the students coming in look like they should be off to Woodstock: long hair and beards! Maybe the tie-dye T-shirts will reappear too!

7 June 2010

Barber:
The weather is bang on time again—every year when everyone is studying for exams.

Customer:
It's great. You know, I think the Donegal postman is right with his predictions.

Barber:
I heard he watches the mountains and the birds and can tell the weather from that—mostly the birds, I'd say. I can tell when the weather is getting better because their skirts get shorter!

8 June 2010

Barber:
I remember a barber who was finishing up a cut and had picked up the back mirror to show his customer the back of his hair in the mirror. But the customer was asleep, so he tapped him a couple of times on the shoulder, and didn't your man slump forward onto the basin! Dead!

Customer:
Dead? Jesus, how did that happen?

Barber:
Must have been a heart attack, they said. The barber cutting his hair never noticed.

Customer:
Did he take the money for the haircut out of the dead lad's wallet?

Barber:
Sure he did, and the dead lad must've liked the haircut, because he told me he got a decent tip too!

9 June 2010

Something came up in the shop today that started a conversation about crime and criminals. I remembered a few lads from a barber shop in town who we'd bump into on nights out and who were well known for doing makeovers on lads who were wanted by the guards. They'd shave their hair off, or their beards, or colour the hair to totally change the appearance of Dublin's most wanted. But, anyway, it led to the telling of this story:

Barber:
Years ago in a shop I worked in in town we were all busy cutting away when a guy burst into the shop a little out of breath and looking a bit nervous, but he sat down quietly, and everyone went back to cutting and talking. So a couple of minutes later one of the other barbers finished the haircut he was doing, and this particular guy was next. He got into the chair and said he wanted his head shaved close. ‘No problem,' the other barber said and began cutting.

Now, in the meantime, from where I worked I could see up the street, and there was a bit of excitement: some guards had arrived. It all seemed to be happening outside the newsagent's. Then the guards began walking down towards the barber shop with the owner of the newsagent. The lad having his hair shaved had just realised this, and he tore his gown off, ran out the door of the shop and down the street as fast as he could, with the guards starting after him.

The owner of the newsagent, who we knew well, stopped outside our door and told us the lad had robbed the shop; but someone saw him ducking into our shop, so the guards were walking down to nab him when he bolted. ‘I hope they catch him,' said the newsagent. ‘Well,' the other barber said, ‘they won't have any trouble spotting him: he ran off with half his hair cut!'

10 June 2010

Customer:
I have to tell you this one. I'm a driving instructor, and I took a woman out today to do a lesson. Sitting in the car, she puts on her seatbelt, starts the engine clutch in, puts the car in gear and lets off the handbrake, indicates to move out onto the road, but she never looks! So I say to her, ‘Have a look in the mirror.' And she looks, shocked. Instead of looking behind in the rear-view mirror she leans forward and starts examining her face and says, ‘Oh, God, is it a spot?'

Barber:
You're scaring me now!

11 June 2010

Customer:
Have you been down to Blackwater recently?

Barber:
No, the weather hasn't been great for the last few summers, so I haven't been down.

Customer:
Did you ever hear about the Blackwater men when you were down there?

Barber:
No, what's that all about?

Customer:
Well, it's a story seldom told, but around the coast there are hundreds of shipwrecks, because there's a bank near Blackwater, and the lads down there would put a lantern on a donkey and lead it along the headland at night when there was a ship in the distance. The ship's captain would see the light and follow it, thinking it was following another ship through a safe course, and they'd find themselves beached on the Blackwater bank. The captain and crew would go ashore to get help to tow the ship off the bank, and most of the time when they returned the ship would be stripped of its cargo. There's a church in Ballygarrett, near Curracloe, where they say the pews are made from wood stolen from a ship called the
Irrawaddy
. It ran aground on the bank in 1856.

14 June 2010

Barber:
It's a really slow day today. I can't believe it's only half two!

Customer:
I know those days—feels like it'll never end. Do you know what you call that?

Barber:
No.

Customer:
Groundhog Day!

15 June 2010

Customer:
I'm going on a stag weekend, but it's not abroad—it's in Galway.

Barber:
That's the recession for you!

Customer:
Yeah, not many going abroad for weekends any more. It was a bit mental for a while there. If you had a few friends getting married in the same year it was expensive. You know, I'd rather get a summons in the post than another wedding invitation. Anyway, I was on holiday in Poland last year, and we went to Auschwitz, and a girl there, who was like a tour guide, asked us where we were from. ‘Ireland,' we said. ‘Oh,' she says, ‘usually the Irish who come here are on stag parties and smell of alcohol!'

Barber:
Not exactly an ideal place for a stag!

Customer:
When you ask people who've been to Auschwitz what it's like they say, ‘Oh, it's amazing. You should go!' Do people know it was a death camp? I wonder sometimes.

16 June 2010

The local traffic warden used to get his hair cut in the shop, and one day when he came in the shop was quiet, but it began to get busier as I was cutting his hair. When I finished his hair I took his gown off, and everyone could see his uniform, but it wasn't until he stood up and put on his hat that almost all the customers evacuated the shop, each one saying, ‘I'll be back in a minute—just putting some money in the meter!'

17 June 2010

Barber
(putting the finishing touches to a haircut): Now, how's that?

Customer:
That's some transformation: my own dog won't know me!

18 June 2010

Barber:
I got caught recently coming off the M50. I couldn't believe it. I was slowing down, and there they were, hiding behind a bus shelter! They got me.
Customer
(a guard): Well, there's a way you can never get a ticket again, you know.

Barber:
So tell me what it is!

I could see the lads waiting on the couch behind me sitting up to hear what the guard was going to say next.

Customer:
Don't drive over the speed limit!

19 June 2010

Customer:
A friend of mine drowned in his muesli the other day!

Barber:
What?

Customer:
Yeah, he was dragged under by a strong currant!

20 June 2010

I was about to begin cutting an elderly customer's hair, and I asked him what he thought of the present Fine Gael crisis, as Enda Kenny had just fired Richard Bruton. ‘Hold on a minute there. I have to take out the hearing aid.' He takes it out and puts it away. ‘Now,' he says, ‘you can talk to yourself!'

21 June 2010

Customer:
I'm really going grey—just look at that [holding up the trimmings that have fallen onto the gown].

Barber:
Well, at least you have a thick head of hair. I wouldn't mind what colour it is as long as I have hair!

Customer:
Can you just cut the grey ones and leave the rest?

22 June 2010

Barber:
Hey, how did you get on in Vegas?

Customer:
I won, believe it or not. I won the Poker Classic!

Barber:
That's brilliant. Well done!

Customer:
Well, I got out of there with a small fortune, but I got an invitation to go back to Vegas, all expenses paid, flights and a penthouse—the whole lot—so I thought, ‘That's great. I'm off on a free trip!' But in a week they cleaned me out. Very clever, though, inviting me back and then fleecing me! So I didn't feel like a winner for long.

23 June 2010

There was a character who regularly came into the shop dressed as Elvis—the Vegas Elvis. He was about mid-forties, with black hair in the Vegas style and big sideburns. He spoke like Elvis too. He seemed to be fond of a pint or four. Anyway, he used to sell poems that he said Elvis told him to write: channeled writing from the other side. They were about his daughter, Lisa Marie, and stuff about him not being happy about the way he died. So, one busy Saturday, Elvis came in for a trim. The shop was packed, and he'd been drinking. He was a quiet drunk and just sat down and waited his turn, until an Elvis song came on the radio, and he was up like a man possessed, doing all the Presley poses and pulling the moves and singing along. It was hilarious. He wasn't at all phased by everyone laughing. Then, when the song ended, he sat back down quietly as if nothing had happened!