June 1, 2006
DASVEDANYA
Eight years ago, I visited a hair stylist in Hoboken, NJ named Irina who worked on Washington St.--the Mile Square's main drag. Irina was the sort of woman whose customers would drag their friends over to the half-submerged picture windows on the sidewalk of her workplace and say "See! Look at how hot that girl is!" And to tell the truth, that's what drew me in there initially, after someone pointed her out in a similar fashion.
As the years went on, and I was her client in Hoboken [one of her first and probably her longest], continued to travel from the Upper East Side of Manhattan to Hoboken, and then the borough of Brooklyn to Manhattan to Hoboken, I would alleviate people's astonishment at my pilgrimages by saying "You don't understand, Irina is the most beautiful woman in the world." And let me tell you, I know a lot of beautiful women.
After a few years of reflection and study however, I'm going to still say that she is. She is one of, if not, the most astonishingly beautiful women I have ever seen. She stops traffic just by walking alongside it. A female friend actually dropped by to devalue my proclamations and all she could say was "That bitch!" One day many years ago she walked into my Hoboken local, said "Hi Dave", and asked if she could have a cigarette. After she exited, my friend Gerry, the bar's manager, was literally--not figuratively--slackjawed. "There is no way that you know that woman!" Moreso--and this is what's kept me going back--is that she is my friend. Eight years of monthly appointments and tucking me last-minute into slots at her busiest hours and never over-scolding me for being late. Whenever I called up her workplace and identified myself as "Dave", I could hear her inquire "Dave from NY?" and she would get on the phone herself and we would work out what we were doing that month She even offered an open invitation to hang out with her at her apt. complex's pool on her day off, which I should have done and I now realize would have been worth quitting my then-9-to-5 job for. She listened to me fret when my sister got pregnant and then listened more to a litany of proud uncle moments in the ensuing seven years. I heard about a parade of boyfriends that turned out to be losers. And we traded funny jokes and hilarious anecdotes of life in the city. My haircuts always took about 50% longer than they should have, but that was definitely fine by me.
Does this seem incredibly gay to wax on about one's barber? I don't care. I called my hair place today because I was desperately in need of Irina's attention--I look like a wild-haired caveman--and was told that she retired. Retired? There is no female I've had a longer continuous relationship with outside of my family! That I've ever had! So I called her on her personal number and we had a nice, heartbreaking, 30-minute goodbye conversation, with promises that we'd hang out in the future. Tears may have welled; by who I'm not saying. Is that gonna happen? I don't know. But anyone that knows me knows that I'm the taciturn type that turns the haircutter/client bartender/boozer relationship on its ear. All I know is that Irina is not just a pretty face. She's a genuinely beautiful person with a truly generous heart, who I hope the best for in the future. She certainly deserves it. Good luck Irina! You were the kindest cut I ever received.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at June 1, 2006 4:38 PM
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