Sudoku and Hair Cuts Go Together
When I'm home, I get my hair cut by my Mom's barber. Actually, she's not so much a barber as she is a stylist. This stylist's name is Jean and her salon is called Ilima's. (When I was younger, I accidentally called Jean "Ilima" because when Mom said "I'm going to Ilima's for a haircut" I used to think that that was what the stylist's name was). I have been going to Ilima's for the last 4 years for at least two reasons: (1) My Mom decided after 14 years of giving me haircuts that she was no good at it. (2) I failed miserably in my only endeavor to cut my own hair. Also, Jean is really, really nice. She always has something nice to say about our family. In fact, every time I go to Ilima's I am sure to hear these two favorable statements:
(1) "Oh your sister she is so amazing. I still cannot believe that she would clean people's houses during the summer. I mean, what a gal, yeah?"
(2) "Do you have a girl up there yet? ... Oh that's too bad. But how can that be? You have such pretty eyes. I mean, ________ look at his eyes! Gorgeous, yeah?"
This is an Old Hawai'i experience for you.
Anyway, I went to said Ilima's last Friday to get my hair cut by the aforementioned Jean. There are two things which are important to understand here. First, Jean has been cutting hair for over 100 years. Second, Jean has regular customers, most of them older Japanese women, who come in on "their" day during the week for "the usual." By this I mean that certain women come every Monday, certain ones come every Tuesday, etc. etc. and on that day they get the usual - a perm, coloring, a trim, a washing, or whatever. It's kind of a like a city diner, but for hair.
Sometimes the regulars come in on their "off" days to help Jean sweep the shop or to talk story. More often than not, this leads to interesting experiences. For example, during past haircuts at Ilima's I have heard discussions about vertigo, pre-marital sex, and... President Bush being a spy for Texas. This last time led to another gem:
The woman sitting next to me has just had her hair done and is not sitting next to me in one of those chairs where the hair dryer thing or whatever comes from over your head. She is asleep. I am reading the comics. All of a sudden:
"Eh! Hey! Hey you! Hey you boy! Yoohoo! Hey!
"Eh?"
"Hey you! You know dat da kine, da Japanese puzzle they have in da newspaper? You know what I talkin' about?"
"Yeah. Da, um, sudoku puzzles yeah?"
"Yeah dat one. You good at dat or what?"
"Hyeh. No, I'm not. I not smart enough."
"Oh yeah? Yeah... Yeah I can see that yeah. I tried 'em one time too but too hard for me. You know why? They just too hard yeah?"
"Yeah. I have a roommate who likes those kine, but I not smart enough for those."
"Oh yeah? Ho."
She falls back asleep.
When I'm home, I get my hair cut by my Mom's barber. Actually, she's not so much a barber as she is a stylist. This stylist's name is Jean and her salon is called Ilima's. (When I was younger, I accidentally called Jean "Ilima" because when Mom said "I'm going to Ilima's for a haircut" I used to think that that was what the stylist's name was). I have been going to Ilima's for the last 4 years for at least two reasons: (1) My Mom decided after 14 years of giving me haircuts that she was no good at it. (2) I failed miserably in my only endeavor to cut my own hair. Also, Jean is really, really nice. She always has something nice to say about our family. In fact, every time I go to Ilima's I am sure to hear these two favorable statements:
(1) "Oh your sister she is so amazing. I still cannot believe that she would clean people's houses during the summer. I mean, what a gal, yeah?"
(2) "Do you have a girl up there yet? ... Oh that's too bad. But how can that be? You have such pretty eyes. I mean, ________ look at his eyes! Gorgeous, yeah?"
This is an Old Hawai'i experience for you.
Anyway, I went to said Ilima's last Friday to get my hair cut by the aforementioned Jean. There are two things which are important to understand here. First, Jean has been cutting hair for over 100 years. Second, Jean has regular customers, most of them older Japanese women, who come in on "their" day during the week for "the usual." By this I mean that certain women come every Monday, certain ones come every Tuesday, etc. etc. and on that day they get the usual - a perm, coloring, a trim, a washing, or whatever. It's kind of a like a city diner, but for hair.
Sometimes the regulars come in on their "off" days to help Jean sweep the shop or to talk story. More often than not, this leads to interesting experiences. For example, during past haircuts at Ilima's I have heard discussions about vertigo, pre-marital sex, and... President Bush being a spy for Texas. This last time led to another gem:
The woman sitting next to me has just had her hair done and is not sitting next to me in one of those chairs where the hair dryer thing or whatever comes from over your head. She is asleep. I am reading the comics. All of a sudden:
"Eh! Hey! Hey you! Hey you boy! Yoohoo! Hey!
"Eh?"
"Hey you! You know dat da kine, da Japanese puzzle they have in da newspaper? You know what I talkin' about?"
"Yeah. Da, um, sudoku puzzles yeah?"
"Yeah dat one. You good at dat or what?"
"Hyeh. No, I'm not. I not smart enough."
"Oh yeah? Yeah... Yeah I can see that yeah. I tried 'em one time too but too hard for me. You know why? They just too hard yeah?"
"Yeah. I have a roommate who likes those kine, but I not smart enough for those."
"Oh yeah? Ho."
She falls back asleep.
posted by jmathe at 2:44 PM
2 Comments:
am i that roommate?
i miss ilima's. there were also the little japanese women who would harvest my fallen hair for pin cushion stuffing. no one does that in chattanooga.
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