... to the drama dowager ("queen" didn't seem to completely capture your sour-puss-iness) who got all accusatory about a tear in the fabric of society because the rules of order hadn't been followed at my local barber shop this past week on the morning of my 5 hour drive to Jacksonville for the Cyndi/Cher concert ... and at the risk of repeating what I told you from the chair as you were sitting on the sidelines throwing eye-daggers and word-darts my way ... SLOW YOUR ROLL.
The rule is established ... whomever gets to the sign-in board first writes his name and the time in either a my-favorite-barber or the I'll-get-a-haircut-from-anyone column. The barbers then review the board and choose the customer listed in their column UNLESS the time stamp in the from-anyone column is earlier. Once the barber calls out the name of that next customer, he wipes it clean from the whiteboard.
Everything is based on who gets to the whiteboard first ... like a U-Turn on the Amazing Race ... so the fact that you pulled into the parking lot moments before I did and that you saw me heading toward the front door at a slightly faster pace than you were going ("walk with purpose" is what I've always heard) and that, when we arrived at that door at the same time, you smiled and held the door for me and said, "after you" ... none of those factoids are weighed in this process.
So for you to sit and glare at me as if I had taken your place and to accuse the barber of breaking the rules by not using the board (where, had you been paying attention, you would have seen that I made a beeline for it, got my name and time stamp written and then was quickly called to come forward for the task at hand, with the barber wiping off my information ... as is the established process) was uncalled for. Your attempt to insult me by commenting that at least you had more hair fell on deaf ears ... seeing as how I'm intimately familiar with my own set of locks (ever since that job at the bank in Chicago where the camera capturing the vault also captured the crown of my head regularly) ... and, in some ways, it helped prove my point that your fit was over something that was taking no more than five minutes out of your day ... seven if the barber was one with those special brushes for heads like mine to catch the few strays that aren't befallen by the half-all-over-razor-strategy.
Seeing you so upset ... I first admonished you to SLOW YOUR ROLL ... and then, knowing as how this is the place of the $10 haircut ... I offered to pay for your own damn coif to appease for you being so sleighted. You declined, which ended up benefiting the barber, as I then doubled my usual tip and explained it to be hazard pay, what with you being his next customer.
Bottom line ... I best not run into you again in that parking lot of that barber ... but if I do, rest assured I'm going to sprint to get inside. So please be wearing your tantrum panties any time you go just in case I'm there ... and game on!
BECAUSE THE URBAN DICTIONARY TELLS IT LIKE IT IS:
http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=slow%20your%20roll
LOOK WHAT ELSE COMES UP WHEN I GOOGLE SEARCH SLOW YOUR ROLL:
http://www.cc.com/episodes/somcvd/inside-amy-schumer-slow-your-roll-season-2-ep-207
WHO KNEW? TANTRUM PANTIES ARE ALREADY A THING:
http://www.cafepress.com/+temper-tantrum+underwear-panties
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