I'm a Fleabit Peanut Monkey

Well damn it if Mark didn't do it to me again. I  mentioned that I really needed a haircut, so Mark picked up the keys to the car and said, let's go. How long would you think a haircut should take, from the time you leave the house until you walk back in the door? Even if you have to wait when you get there, it shouldn't take more than an hour. It took us three. He does it to me every time. I basically get kidnapped while Mark stops at different stores, sandwiching the haircut in there somewhere between Aldi's and Bed Bath and Beyond.

Despite being Shanghaied by Mark, the haircut itself was fabulous. I really enjoy the barber shop that Mark discovered. You know when you go to the zoo and you see the monkeys in there, one sitting quietly while another goes over every inch of the quiet one's body, picking off vermin, dirt, and other unwanted debris? That's how I feel at this barber shop, pampered like that monkey. I sit there in the chair while a nice looking young man meticulously cuts my hair. He not only cuts the hair on my head, but he trims my eyebrows and all the hair in my ears (He was quite impressed with just how long the hair in my ears were). It's not over with that bit of trimming either. He goes back and takes a straight razor to carefully shave a crisp hair line, giving me a very nice, neat and clean look. When it's all done, he slaps some nice smelling after shave on me and hands me a mirror to admire his work. I get all of this service for only twelve dollars, with the extra added bonus of Family Guy running non-stop on big screen televisions all around the shop. I love that place.