Positive People

I'm reeeeeally not in the right frame of mind for telling amusing anecdotes about gay hairdressers at the moment. Head is in a very weird place. Why? Because this half page story has done my head in. Really juicy topic, brilliant sounding performance, director doesn't want to be interviewed, called the choreographer at 2.30, he said he was just going into rehearsals and would call back at 4pm and it's now 5.pm and I've been sitting by the phone when I could have been doing stuff... grr. And I've just spent the past hour or so doing more background reading on the David Hicks case. Man, that is heavy, horrible stuff. If Orwell were alive today he'd definitely be writing about the US government. "Honour Bound To Defend Freedom" are the words written across the gates at Guantanamo Bay military prison. It would be funny if it were not so repugnant.

If I were in a better frame of mind, I'd tell you how when in the hairdressers yesterday, Guy asked me what I did for a living. I told him I'm a writer, told him about the tattoo story I did for the glossy that's out next month.

"Really," Guy squealed. "That's fascinating. You know what you should write about? You should write about the problems faced by positive people who want tattoos."

Initially I thought he meant optimistic people, even though that didn't make much sense. I quickly came up to speed though.

"Because my friend's positive and he said to me, 'Guy' he said, 'I'd love to get a tattoo but I can't because I'm positive', and so I said to him, I said 'Screw that, just be open and honest with the artist because, you know, lots of people are positive today..."

He went on about positive people lot, pausing to tell me that he wasn't telling me what I should write about. In fact he just paused, period. The scissors were just inches away from my hair, but idle. I considered lowering my hair towards the scissors as a subtle hint. Subtle, like shut up and cut my hair goddamnit.

"... because you know, even my clients could be positive. I could be positive. I could be positive and cut myself and bleed on the client because anything's possible."

Fucking hell, I thought, how do I end up with them.

Somehow, when I got a word in, I managed to tell him about my clubbing clothing shop and this, quite naturally (?) set Guy off on a monologue about his drug exploits, prefered drugs, best drugs for different times of the day... during the course of the conversation music came up (I know - I wondered what the hell music had to do with clubbing too) and it turned out that he's just recently cut the hair of a promoter friend of mine. I then got the lowdown on the drug problems my friend's flatmate is having, something I'd previously known nothing about. It was amazing.

Anyway, he washed my hair after cutting it and on the way back from the sink he asked if the pants I was wearing were from the shop. I said yes, and without skipping a beat he turned to one of the other guys and said "They are from his shop." I had no idea they had already discussed my pants. Could they gossip telepathically? Is that what happened? I sat down and the pair of them leaned over and started inspecting my pants and asking about other colours, and then guy fondled the fabric on my top and said how much he loved that too and I just about had to swat them away like moths.

Also, he did give really good head massage, which made me wonder this morning while in the shower, why is it that when you try to give yourself a head massage it feels like crap compared to when someone else does it, but when you poke yourself in your eye with your finger, it feels exactly the same as when someone else does it.

That's what I would have told you if my head was happier.

Oh great - the publicist who was going to sort out the choreographer has gone missing in action. Brilliant.