First of all Yelp, anyone who writes (or reads) a review of something online underSTAnds the five-star rating spectrum well enough by now to not need of the descriptors that appear onscreen when the mouse glides over the star.
"Eek"?, "Meh"??, "Methinks"???, "Woohoo"????
So i turn into an englishman from the middle ages if i'm tragically unhappy with a service? or a blithering idiot who uses expressions like yay and woohoo unironically if i'm impressed?
also, nobody takes "AOK" to mean average.
C'mon, Yelp.
X: "I gave that business a 4-star rating."
Y: "Oh? How did you mean it?"
X: "I meant it like: 'yay! im a fan'."
Y: "I don't wanna be your friend anymore."
I'm kidding...........................................SOrt of.
Having just moved to Tarzana from Miami, i was searching for a new barber. Just 'round the corner from my apart meant, on Ventura, was Timeless Barber Co.
I stopped in to browse.
I was greeted by Wens (which i thought was a deliciously counterintuitive name to HAVe if you're working at a place called TIMELESS anything:
X: "Wens, is he coming?"
Y: "Doesn't matter whenz he's coming: this shop is timeless."
X: "Wha?"
Y: "Exactly. That's why i don't wanna be your friend anymore."),
I asked Wens if Eli (who was focused on a head at the time, and who looks real young for his age) knew how to do a pompadour. i was assured by Wens that he was an expert and that he knew that cut well. Then some dude named Nick--- a Christian---chimed in and recommended Eli with a glowing review, so i booked an appointment.
From when i sat down in Eli's chair, I never ONCe watched him while he worked. I just closed my eyes and imagined all the things John Lennon sugGESts i imagine while listening to his song. I also imagined OTHer things, but those have not been yet set to music.
(note:) I should mention that my father, Francisco Antonio, was a Barber, ol' school, worked at the Waldorf Astoria and later had his own shop (Triton Barber Shop, Miami Beach) for 27 years, and cut my hair about 10 times a year, so
i can tell right away whether a barber knows what he's doing or if he's just frontin'.
I never opened my eyes while he snipped at my hair.
Eli was doing everything right.
When he turned the chair----after pomade-ing and blowdry-ing my hair--- to presaent his handiwork, i was almost blown away: the lines were clean, the symmetry was perfect and i was galactically psyched with my cut.
Excellent cut.
One i think even my FAther would have approved of (that he was hard to PLEase, is what i'm insinuating, yes).
The only thing that seemed off (initially) was that he blowdried my front a little bit low for my taste, and initially i was nervous, thinking he had cut too much off the top.
But when i got home i washed and blowdried--my way-- to check, and the pompadour was there.
It was fucking perfect.
Tight work, Eli.
I understand your brother Peyton does mani-pedies. read more