THE BARBER SHOP
You see, I'm one of those guys that knows that without hair, his head looks... different. But my parents push me there, so I'm hopeless. Anyway, today I was sitting and waiting for the tragic fate that was to befall my precious mane. There was a middle-aged man siting beside me, holding a 1-year-old kid crying his lungs out. The barbers, the lead called Chepe Marroquin, were already shaving the hair off a dude about my age and another middle-aged person, single.
As the 14-year-old left his seat and paid 30 bucks (local currency: Lempiras) it was the toddler's turn. Did I mention he was crying? Well, he wasn't. HE WAS KOOL-AID RED EXPLODING LIKE BABY HELL.
I WANNA GO POTTY!Well, he was officially mad.
I was reading on the news how Diego Maradona was really afraid about yesterday's game where the Aztecs were trying to wreck Lio's feet instead of aiming at the ball. And watching at the screaming child get his butt forced into the kiddy chair by his own father and Chepe. Meanwhile, the single was cooing the little rascal, yielding no positive results.
The under-protecting father then tried bribery with orange juice. It helped, but the baby was still Kool-Aid red and ready to explode his baby bowels all over the place. I kept reading as the father cooed his baby for shaving time.
Wait, did I say 'obliterated'?? I meant 'murdered'.
As Chepe got started on the shaving machine, a peasant-like old chap entered with a hearty hello. I could see he was a hard-worker (not peasant, it sounds really inferior) because his skin looked rough, his leather sandals were worn out in some parts and in other parts there were patches of grass. He also wore a distinctive straw hat and although some of his teeth were missing, his smile looked like he could take a homeless cat to his house care for it.
What wrecked it up was his talking.
I was reading on the news how Diego Maradona was really afraid about yesterday's game where the Aztecs were trying to wreck Lio's feet instead of aiming at the ball. And watching at the screaming child get his butt forced into the kiddy chair by his own father and Chepe. Meanwhile, the single was cooing the little rascal, yielding no positive results.
The under-protecting father then tried bribery with orange juice. It helped, but the baby was still Kool-Aid red and ready to explode his baby bowels all over the place. I kept reading as the father cooed his baby for shaving time.
Look, sonny, it's JUICE. Delicious, orange JUICE to drink with your mouth! Here, take it, drink. Yeeeees, drink it like milky. There ya go...
Father
Seriously, sir, I can't see why a baby wouldn't drink with his mouth.
As the kid went out of his chair, drained of all his body hydration via his eyes, he could only sit and cry (again) in desperation as his father was severely obliterated by the vroom-vroom (I'm still surprised how kids in here are so literate despite their age) and then it was my turn to get obliterated.
Seriously, sir, I can't see why a baby wouldn't drink with his mouth.
As the kid went out of his chair, drained of all his body hydration via his eyes, he could only sit and cry (again) in desperation as his father was severely obliterated by the vroom-vroom (I'm still surprised how kids in here are so literate despite their age) and then it was my turn to get obliterated.
Wait, did I say 'obliterated'?? I meant 'murdered'.
As Chepe got started on the shaving machine, a peasant-like old chap entered with a hearty hello. I could see he was a hard-worker (not peasant, it sounds really inferior) because his skin looked rough, his leather sandals were worn out in some parts and in other parts there were patches of grass. He also wore a distinctive straw hat and although some of his teeth were missing, his smile looked like he could take a homeless cat to his house care for it.
What wrecked it up was his talking.
Hey, Chepe! How are you doing?? Did you see the son of a b%&$ in there trying to steal my horse? That f%#*ing kid should taste the sharpness of my machete, I ain't no slowpoke! I'll cut his damn fingers off!!
Old man
Yep, he was Honduran.
The kid kept crying, and the old man's 'sweet' talk couldn't make it much worse. Oh, wait... yeah it did make it much, much worse. But anyway, Chepe was dealing the finishing touches and cleaning me up, while another barber called for the old man to get his head clean. I payed Lps. 30 and left, not without saying goodbye to the li'l kid who wasn't all that Kool-Aid red anymore...
Yep, he was Honduran.
The kid kept crying, and the old man's 'sweet' talk couldn't make it much worse. Oh, wait... yeah it did make it much, much worse. But anyway, Chepe was dealing the finishing touches and cleaning me up, while another barber called for the old man to get his head clean. I payed Lps. 30 and left, not without saying goodbye to the li'l kid who wasn't all that Kool-Aid red anymore...
Bye, kiddie, kiddie! Bye-bye! Okay, now, good-bye. Hey, I said good-bye kid! Let go! Hey! Sir! Uncontrolled kid in here!!
[Adal]berto
He could've exploded on my pants, but I knew better and gave him back to the 'father'.
One thing that struck me during all that show was one question that really annoyed my memory: Was I like THAT?!
He could've exploded on my pants, but I knew better and gave him back to the 'father'.
One thing that struck me during all that show was one question that really annoyed my memory: Was I like THAT?!
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