Hair Rapist

One of my friends is a world-renowned hair dresser. His nickname is Pov, due to a misprint of one of his salon tri-folds which *I* found hysterical at the time. (He didn't see the humor in it as much as I did).

Pov is semi-retired and doesn't do much hair right now, but he deigns to do the hair of both myself and a couple of my friends. So, we periodically have hair parties at my house, where we all sit around and catch up while getting our hair perfected.

Saturday morning, Pov came over and as we were getting ready for everyone else to arrive, we realized that we were out of a certain type of hair color. So we got in the car and ran up to Sally's Beauty Supply to stock up.

We got there at 5 minutes to 9. We waited in the parking lot until we saw someone approaching the door from inside the shop. He was a bulky, disinterested gay guy with greasy blond hair and various facial piercings. I mention that he was gay simply because he was anxious to make sure that everyone knew it.

The guy had an attitude, I'm telling you. He even flipped the lock in a pissed-off "take-this-you-lock" kind of way.

We walked in and I chirped "Good morning!" as we passed him. He growled. I kid you not.

I kept looking over my shoulder as Pov gathered up whatever he needed, and we headed up to the counter.

"You ready?" said Blondie in an insulting tone of voice. I do not know how he made it so insulting, but he managed somehow.

We nodded, both of us staring at him, and then each other. Blondie rang up the items in a vicious manner, jabbing each register key as if it had personally offended him.

Pov was staring fixedly at Blondie, and then would look at me, gesturing with his chin to check something out on Blondie. I kept examining him, but I couldn't figure out what Pov was referring to!

Granted, Blondie was a wreck of a human being: He had tattoos adorning sweaty skin, greasy and badly bleached shaggy hair, too many rings and piercings, and a glowering countenance. But obviously Pov had seen something more remarkable than that.

As we left the store, I said in a forced cheeriness "Have a good morning!"

"You too," Blondie said reluctantly.

As soon as we were clear of the store, I turned to Pov and asked "What the heck were you trying to point out in there?"

"Didn't you see the tag?" asked Pov.

I shook my head.

"He had a tag on his smock that said Hair Rapist! I SWEAR!" said Pov.

"Well," I said, "I certainly wouldn't put anything past the guy, but that seems pretty extreme." Knowing that Pov has a learning disability, I suspected he'd misread something, so I asked "Let's make really sure we're right about this one. Exactly what did the tag say?"

"I'm telling you, it said Hair Rapist!" declared Pov.

"Okay, spell it out for me," I said. "Were there two Rs or only one?"

"H-A-I-R-A-P-I-S-T," said Pov.

"Ahhh, he was merely trying to make a play on words," I said. "You're supposed to say it the same as you would say the word therapist," I explained. "I admit that's a very stupid play on words, though. I wonder what genius thought that one up."

"I don't know, but I know you wouldn't catch me wearing that tag," grumbled Pov. "When I was a rookie, I did some terrible things to hair, and I admit it. I've teased it, I've burned it, and I've damaged it...

But, I have never been that bad!"