WHAT THE HECK HAPPENED?
It started with the haircut. No, it started before that, it was not getting any sleep two nights ago. Wait, no, it wasn't then either, it started with the 'Yom Tov' (literally, good day, a religious holiday where, for the purposes of this writing, buses don't run). Wait, but not even, it was going to see someone I met at an Amnesty event in Jerusalem, yeah that was it. Like this, I could go back, and back, and back, to who the hell knows what, ad infinitum.
In that case, a twenty-year story short: I figured it was a time for a haircut. So did all of the little kids at the Passover seder. Don't get me wrong, they loved that I was there and all. Justin Bieber had never been to Zikhron Yakov!
From Biebs to a monk I went. Again, please don't get me wrong — the haircut was wonderful —— the experience of getting a haircut. What care, what precision, what speed! This guy was really something else. When my friend suggested the fifteen shequel haircut ($4.15), how could I resist? It was like the star-treatment, really. All-scissors cut, safety-blade shave, and a shampoo wash to boot! If only I didn't look like a monk without the bald on top.
It started with the haircut. No, it started before that, it was not getting any sleep two nights ago. Wait, no, it wasn't then either, it started with the 'Yom Tov' (literally, good day, a religious holiday where, for the purposes of this writing, buses don't run). Wait, but not even, it was going to see someone I met at an Amnesty event in Jerusalem, yeah that was it. Like this, I could go back, and back, and back, to who the hell knows what, ad infinitum.
In that case, a twenty-year story short: I figured it was a time for a haircut. So did all of the little kids at the Passover seder. Don't get me wrong, they loved that I was there and all. Justin Bieber had never been to Zikhron Yakov!
From Biebs to a monk I went. Again, please don't get me wrong — the haircut was wonderful —— the experience of getting a haircut. What care, what precision, what speed! This guy was really something else. When my friend suggested the fifteen shequel haircut ($4.15), how could I resist? It was like the star-treatment, really. All-scissors cut, safety-blade shave, and a shampoo wash to boot! If only I didn't look like a monk without the bald on top.
"Tonsure"...
not sure.
When I arrived back to Hebrew University Campus, at the behest of my friend Edouard Harari, silliness ensued. There was much laughter and jolliness to be had, at my expense of course.
They, meaning my friends, rushed me down to another apartment. Laugh, sit, cut, in that order. Hair on the floor. The jury is still out on whether the Bethlehem Monk Cut or Paper Scissors Kitchen Cut was the superior hairstyle.
People are getting hungry by this point, myself included. Me, though, eh, I can't help but think, "This is not presentable; how can I go out into the public?"
Again, my friends saved the day. A hat, great. Not quite my style: flat rim, big, fitted, purple, you get the picture.
So what happened? We went out, much hametz to be had at 'Spagettim' restaurant. Here's a picture, maybe then you'll understand why they wondered if I was 18 or not when I ordered my beer.
Still waiting on that Bieber Fever to start.
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