Thursday Sidetrack

A couple of years ago, I found myself in Tunisia – that’s in Africa, for those of you not in the know. In a small barbershop a little up the road from the hotel I found out, in my infinite wisdom, that I would try the old-school shave – you know the one with the knife – that apparently was still very much in style there.

Old Barbershop...
Old Barbershop...

I went in, was greeted by an immensely cheerful man whose name I can no longer remember, and was was ushered over to a chair in front of a mirror, the shelf beneath it stacked with well known grooming products – though with oddly misspelled names. Thinking nothing of it, I settled in.

It turns out, however, that the 50-something apparent owner of the place is not going to be the one to perform the rite, as it were. He yells something over to a curtained part of the locale, and out comes a 12 year old boy. And when I say he was twelve, that’s perhaps even pushing it a little.

Suffice to say, I spent about fifteen minutes in a chair, in a little barbershop in Africa, with five or six Arab men smiling and laughing in the background, fearing for my life. Turned out good though – the kid had skillz, as they say…

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