This weekend I went to get my haircut at a local Ultra/Super/Pro Cuts. I can never remember which it is. Anyway, my haircut is always simple. I ask them to use the clippers and use a number 1 on the sides and a number 2 or number 3 on the top. When it was my turn, I got this happy smiling Vietnamese guy probably in his mid thirties named Minh (I think). So he’s about done with my hair and he starts to make conversation:

Minh: Is that your girlfriend over there?
Me: Yea.
Minh: Ah, she real pretty. You’re lucky guy.
Me: Thanks.
Minh: So you two have big plans tonight? Going to go to parties?
Me: Well, probably not. We’re probably just going to watch a movie.
Minh: Ah, you’re lucky guy. I have nothing.
Me: What??
Minh: You’re lucky. I have nothing.
Me: What do you mean?
Minh: My wife is in Vietnam.
Me: Why don’t you bring her here?
Minh: I can’t, I have to wait five years until I can (something, something, I’m not sure what he said).
Me: 5 years?
Minh: Yea, it’s a long time. I can’t wait that long.
Me: Wow, that sucks.
Minh: I need to find a temporary.
Me: I don’t know about that.
Minh: Don’t you think? I need to find a temporary. Five years is too long.
Me: I don’t think that’s a good idea.
Minh: You don’t think so? Five years.
Me: I don’t think you’re wife will think it’s a good idea.
Minh: But it’s too long. I need a temporary.

After that he finished my hair and showed me the back of my head in the mirror, just like the barbers always do. We went over to the register to so he could ring me up. Minh commented on my hair being so short and I told him it’s because I like to have a zero maintenance hairstyle. He laughed, reached over the counter, rubbed my head and said, “You look like the Buddha.”

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