Hair Cut

Weel, folks, you'll be happy to know that I've finally gotten to the stage in my life where I think long hair might be too young for me. I was sitting in one of my favorite restaurants near the school this afternoon when I decided to get it chopped off. First let me tell you about this eating establishment. It's called Story Cafe, and they serve mediocre Italian cuisine. The food is fairly cheap, and is a big reason I go there. They have some really good minestrone and a few other good-for-the-price pasta dishes. The other reason I go is for the ambiance. It is perhaps one of the gaudiest places I've ever seen. It looks like a 1980s prom. There are black granite tables accompanied by purple armchairs and couches and white wicker chairs. On the ceiling is some sort of purple metallic floral wallpapering that is accentuated by pink lights. My words do no justice to the place, to be honest.
It was in these surroundings that I came to the realization that 25 is too old to be looking like a frat boy. Half the time, I feel like all I need is a red dixie cup in my hand to complete the image. So, this evening after our house church I went to the "salon" down the street. For three dollars you can get a shampoo where they massage your head, a back massage, and a haircut. It's a pretty good deal, and you don't need an appointment. Just like everywhere else in China, the place is extremely overstaffed. Although you might think so, the language barrier isn't that big of a problem. You just have to show them a picture or you'll end up with some weird Chinese mullet.