My haircut used to be 12 dollars

Now—it’s 25.

I’ve been going there, since I was 16.

Now—I’m 35.

They speak in Vietnamese.

“Would you like haircut?”

“Yes.”

“How do you want it?”

“Number 3 on the sides, and a trim.”

“How much off the top?”

“I don’t know.”

They pinch my hair and show me.

“Yes, that’s right.”

Most of the time,

I can’t understand their English.

Yesterday, I went inside

and nobody was there,

except a strange man

I’d never seen before.

“Would you like haircut?”

“Yes,” I told him.

“How do you want it?”

“Number 3 on the sides, and a trim off the top.”

He had a swastika tattoo on his finger—blue, like prison ink.

He cut my hair in silence.

I didn’t dare move.

My thoughts were running wild, like horses—

he probably styled hair in prison. His scissors were snipping.

“Did you watch the game?” He asked.

“No,” I said.

“What did you do this morning?”

“A bit of reading.”

“And writing?”

“Yes—that too.” I wondered how he knew.

Do I look like a writer? I thought.

I do it every day, so perhaps I look that way.

“What do you write?” He asked.

“I have a private detective I’m working on.”

“Do you think it’ll get published?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been rejected thousands of times.”

He looked at me funny. “Do you use psychics in your stories?”

“Side-kick or Psychic?” I asked.

“Psychic—you know the one who touches a person, and can see their future?”

“Oh. Psychic. Well, I think I used one in a story once, but I can’t remember.”

He was holding my head in his hands.

“You must have psychic ability,” he told me.

“Why do you say that?” I asked.

“You know, I worked in a prison, don’t you?”

“No.”

I could tell he didn’t believe me.

He finished my haircut, and I gave him a tip.

I was thankful

he didn’t jam his scissors into my eyeball.

8 thoughts on “My Prison Haircut

      1. I just go back and re-read it, I am still laughing 🤣🤣🤣.

        P.s. a girl actually prefer a person take make her laugh then been to a prison!!! Just be you 😊

        Like

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