(note: the photos are completely unrelated to the post, but I couldn't take any pictures of the protagonists without being conspicuous)
It's still snowing quietly at Berlin, constantly and steadily painting everything white. The cold weather puts a crushing paw on every kind of spontaneous social contact. You can't just hop out, drink a beer and meet someone you hadn't known before.
There is the winter coat to put over the two sweaters, the hat, the mittens, the hood, the hood (no mistake here, there are two of them for me), the shawl, the boots, and then basically nobody can see your face anymore, but you're safe from freezing. How is one supposed to meet prince charming, looking like a bear stuck in a barrel, I wonder.
So you have to have a plan, if you want to meet someone you didn't already know in October. Like going to get your hair cut.
Yeah, I know. The state of affairs is rather sad. But still. You learn all sorts of things at the hairdresser's.
The excitement of finding one was almost too much for me. Until I felt like animal of the Muppet Show, which was even more unbearable.
The big problem at Berlin is finding a hairdresser who won't cut your hair 'berlin modern'. I can recognize style in an eighties perm or trend in a 'short in front and long behind (the germans call it 'vokuhila', vorne kurz und hinten lang)', but I don't want to see it in my very own mirror first thing in the morning. But the one just one street from my new home looked inspiring enough, not too much like style and not too much like the village I was born in. The place is called 'hairdresser', which seemed to give a pragmatic start to the whole adventure.
And while I'm really happy about my new haircut, I'm even happier about my new hairdresser. He's about mid-thirties, I'd say, red hair cropped short, a well-cultivated five o'clock shadow, heavy bone structure, he's a big but not a tall man. When I came in, he was working on a young lady who's obviously a friend of his and who spoke with a horrendous bavarian accent, while he spoke a good down-to-earth berlinois. They were talking about a friend's birthday party they were invited to.
She:'I don't know what to wear yet, but we'll see.'
He:'I'm gonna come as always. As Mariah.'
(quick note: He was evidently talking about Mariah Carey, but my brother didn't make the connection immediately, so maybe this is a girl thing.)
She:'Yeah, but you remember it's a theme party? It's going to be about fairy tales.'
He:'Well then Mariah will come in a tutu.'
Ah, but the excitement of city life!