all i really wanted was a haircut

i was going to get a haircut the other week, but on short notice i had to go to St. Louis for work. I rescheduled. i went over there tonight. when i started going to the guy who cuts my hair, things were different. pretty much i just came in and pretty soon i was shorn. the last time i was there, i came in and they offered me a glass of wine. that's right "would you like white or red sir" was actually asked of me in preparation of cutting my hair. really i don't want red nor white, i want my damn haircut, if i had wanted a glass of wine i'd have gone to bar not a barbershop. actually, that's just the issue, i hadn't gone to a barbershop at all. this wine proved that in fact it was a...salon. i took the glass of wine, but now i am thinking about finding a barbershop. that is much more comfortable for me. it's what i am used to. i don't need a shampoo, i don't need anyone to call stuff you put in your hair product. i'd have a beer, but that's besides the point. really what i want is my haircut. anyone know a good no frills grumpy old dude who cuts hair and complains about ridiculous developments and tells absurd nostalgic stories about the 1940s. maybe a place that still gives shaves? i don't even care that much about the shaves, the barbershop poll, or even the combs in a jar of whatever that green-blue stuff is. i think i am going to need to break up with my hair stylist, and i am sorry to say the wine was the last straw.