I went to a neighborhood barbershop this afternoon to get a haircut. The barber quickly intuited that I was a new customer, and as he got started, he asked me, in a strong Russian accent, about other places I had gone to get a haircut. Do they offer an online appointment system? He was curious because he had just launched this service for his shop. “Did you receive a confirmation email?” he asked me intently. I told him yes, I did. “And did it provide the correct time?” he asked. I said that it had. Apparently other customers have had issues; the recent daylight savings time changeover has caused a bit of a bug. He interrupted the haircut to call someone to complain about this, in Russian.

Back to the haircut. The barber told me he wouldn’t take too much hair off the top of my head, because “you are thinning up there,” he said with a smile. “Not balding! Just thinning.” 

As he cut my hair, he asked me my name and I told him Jonathan. He said “Are you Jewish?”  I said no. He said “Why did your parents give you that name?” I said they like its meaning and how it fits with my last name. He said “it means ‘gift from God’ — it is a very Jewish name. Do you know this?”  I said yes, yes I do.

Demonstrating that he clearly didn’t grow up in the U.S., he asked another probing question: “How old are you?”  I said 38. His eyebrows raised. “I am also 38!” he said. I was surprised — he looks at least five years older than me. And I suppose I look young for 38. “1974?” he asked. I said yes. After a pause, I added “April, 1974 — that’s when I was born.”

He said “I was born in September. So you are more bigger than me.”