Barber Hangover

Am laughing as i write this post. A friend called, no, flashed me yesterday morning, he was out of credit. He asked me to sambaza him something small. I agreed. I had taken 50 bob pewa credo on Orange Mobile. In my boredom yesterday i forgot to sambaza him something. So today he flashes again and i promise to send it before close of business today.
20 minutes later he calls and says thanks for the credit. I told him he is welcome. I did not send him any credit so i believe miracles happen!

Now, to things that matter, i have had a very long relationship with my barber, some dude called Aleki which is an abridged version of Alexander. He talks a lot, this Aleki, but again i think all barbers talk a lot.

One day am sitting on the shearing chair and he stares ate me across the mirror. I stare back. I raise my eyebrows questioningly. He points to the centre of my head, so am like, kwani whats up?

“Boss,” he says, “ka airport kanamea hapa!” (boss, an airport is growing here- meaning am balding, in style :))

“Ooh, that one?” i giggle in shock and embarrassment. “It’s something in the family, my father had his when he was 23!” which is a blatant lie because the dude who was supposed to be my father went AWOL before i was born.

I was abit shocked to know that i was balding coz i really did love my hair. That was several years back so you can ‘beat mathematics’ and take a guess how much hair i have lost up to now!

Ok, i used to feel the hair at the centre of my head going soft but i never at one time imagined that i would be balding.

Aleki has so many mixed up stories that i never really quite seem to follow them; most times they just don’t add up.

The other day i found him nursing a major hangover. His eyes were red and sagging. He talked alot about the bash he had been to the previous night, my mind roamed to other important things like the stock market, price of cabbages in the market and the latest pills to curb obesity.

Talking of obesity, me thinks a sure way to cure it is taking the victims to far flung areas where they still store maize in granaries and have them (obese people) reside in those granaries for an entire month. Trust me it works. I have never tried it but i know it works.

He, Aleki was in the mood for stories as he shaves me. He is telling me how much he charges for a full service which includes facial, neck and head massage. I can’t even remember the cost coz i wasn’t interested. I was also interrupted by a loud mouthed fellow sitting on the bench close to the door.

The loud mouth was furiously chewing miraa and his mouth was all green. He is talking about everything and nothing and he keeps looking at my reflection in the mirror in the hope that i will support or contribute to his useless banter. I ignore him. I hate loud mouths.

Aleki is also saying things which are totally different from what loud mouth is saying. Am thinking of things i would love to do before i die. The list includes; riding an elephant, milking it, trying not to be shot by some sniper, chew a Redbull can (ok, this will probably kill me, i saw some dude called Njiwa Pori do it on Larry Madowo’s #Trend).

I love the feeling of the shaving machine on my head, the buzz really puts me in some kind of a trance. It would be a good time to meditate but Aleki never lets me.

He is through, the barber. I look at my shaven head and the articulate side cuts made using a razor blade and i think i look great. I want to stand, pay and leave but Aleki tells me he is not through yet. He applies a cacophony of things on my head (i counted ointment, cream, more cream and something else).

He massages my head sooooo hard i thought he was gonna crush my skull. I hate it, this massage, it’s like being tortured for information in a cell. He massages my neck and i stick my tongue out coz it hurts and he is pressing the back of my head too much… i was a chicken being slaughtered. I felt an overwhelming desire to fart.

He asked whether i have ever had a facial. Yes, i said, my wife did it once (where is the love??).

“Then i will give you a free facial the professional way!”

Remember this fellow still had a hangover.

He applies some scrub. I was really hoping he would not press me as much as he did my skull.

Apparently the facial went well (am not even sure whether it’s the same facial women have!!). but just before i got up from the chair he remembered he had not surgical spirited me, so he goes like;

“Ah, ebu i paka you spirit ndio next time usije na mathundo!” I google translated mathundo to be his native language of the nappy rash you get for not surgical spiriting shaved heads!

His parting shot:”Next time i will buy blue moon vodka instead of surgical spirit, it’s medicinal!”

I think my barber is loosing it!


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