God, I hate getting haircuts here in Germany.
Every time -- without exception -- the barber or hairdresser or whoever cuts my hair all wrong. Too short on the sides, too long in the front, and the cowlick ignored so that it produces a weird, this-man's-head-has-a-corner effect. My hair is thick-ish and coarse, but not extraoardinarily so. Why is this so hard?
Ah, but: last year I was staying overnight in Frankfurt (early morning flight, so I took the train down the night before) and was walking around the bahnhof / cheap hotel / red light district. I've blogged about this before, yes? It's an immigrant area, full of dollar stores and kebab places and call-Tunisia-for-five-cents-a-minute phone places.
And barber shops. There are a couple of blocks where every other storefront is a barber shop, all run by Turks and obviously serving an immigrant clientele. On a whim, I stepped into one and asked for a trim.
It. Was. Awesome.