Originally posted by: O2bnVegas
My warrant story...well, not MINE, but that of a nutty hairdresser I once had. She was good with hair but drove me batty endlessly chattering. Like, she'd cut a little, then stop to tell me some "more" of her story. Her life was a drama.
Anyway, she didn't me what it was for (even though I asked) but she had a warrant. Didn't take care of it. Got a seriously worded letter telling her she'd better take care of it or else. She went to court, or so she says she did. She was arrested right there and taken to jail! Was there for several days. Didn't get the 'one phone call' for several days, she said. One commode (out in the open) for four female cell mates. Finally got to "my lawyer" and somehow got out. She said "I'm suing 'em." For what? She didn't say. One day she called me, sounded frantic telling me she couldn't make the appointment for my haircut. Good excuse to find another hairdresser. But I always wondered about that warrant!
Hope this is a slow day for you, Kevin, and you enjoyed this fascinating story. LOL.
Oddly enough...I live in a pretty small town, and in the best of times, there are only three barbershops available. Two of them shut down early, before the statewide lockdown in March, so there was only one place to go when I wanted to get a haircut. Yelp reviews showed multiple warnings about what an "experience" it was to get your hair cut in Gina's shop. I went anyway, how bad could it be, I thought. Well...I don't like extremely talkative people, and I don't like Nazis. Gina was an extremely talkative Nazi. While I was waiting my turn, and while she was cutting my hair, I was treated to an endless gabbling monologue about those socialist liberal filthy Mexicans Deep State Hillary Pelosi Dracula Godzilla liberal hoax liberal conspiracy liberal Egg McMuffins kill all immigrants Trump Trump Trumpy Trump Trump MAGA MAGA MAGA babble blabber blab. (I somewhat overstate the coherence of it all.)
It was the only haircut I've ever had that took five hours. Or maybe it only seemed that way. There was an added thrill in that one of the customers waiting was a Hispanic man, whose countenance grew darker and darker as she piled up the racial insults. I hoped that if he had a gun, he was an accurate shot--I was right next to Gina, after all.
I paid her and shakily walked out. She had actually given me a very nice haircut. It was certainly an "experience," sort of like going to a local restaurant and having a fire break out in the kitchen. I resolved to, next time I need a haircut, drive 50 miles to another barbershop if I have to.
(I should add that in this very Trumpy town, Gina doubtless has her admiring customers.)