That's the Last Time I Let Lou Dobbs Cut My Hair

I’ve been getting my hair cut at the same place for a few years now. It’s pretty awesome. Not only is it cheap (10 bucks for a haircut), it’s a seriously old school barbershop, where they have old Playboys laying around and the woman who runs the place shaves the back of your neck with a straight razor and hot shaving cream at the end, which makes me feel like a cowboy.
We never really talk, other than superficial stuff about the weather, my impressive cowlick, and how yes, I want to keep my sideburns. I don’t care what the rest of America looks like, I’m keeping the 90210 ‘burns. Just wait – 10 years from now I’ll be seen as ahead of the trend, especially since by then I will have moved on to cultivate an impressive pair of ‘70s Elvis muttonchops.
Today I made the mistake of going in there while she was watching the news. They were talking about those kids that got eaten by the tiger or whatever had been taunting it previously. Duh. Anyway, that launched her into this whole thing about how it served them right because they were Mexicans who were over here to rape women and steal our jobs.
For the rest of my haircut (which wasn’t really long) she kept on the Mexicans coming here to rape women. I kept quiet, because you don’t really want to make your barber upset, but now I’m wondering if I’m going to have to find another place to get my hair cut.
Thing is, I like going there, not only because of my fundamental cheapness, but also because I really like that shave there at the end. I suppose if I don’t go in there while the news in on, maybe I’ll be OK.