After we were married, we moved to Columbus so I could go to graduate school at OSU for the first round. I found a barber shop that I liked on High St. somewhere between Worthington and Clintonville. It was old school and inexpensive; you had your choice of one haircut, the barber used a straight razor to clean up your neck, and you didn't have to talk if you didn't want to...just the way I like my barber shops.
I tend to go a few months between haircuts, so I wasn't exactly a regular. Erin used to comment about the hair tonic that the barber used...it was strong and reminded her of the Lucky Tiger tonic that her brothers' barber used on them when they were kids. Erin's brother Paul disliked the smell calling it "wucky tiger." I didn't care for it either and usually took a shower when I got home from the barber shop.
On one trip to the barber shop to bust down my puff and scruff, my barber asked me where I was from, who I was married to, and where she was from. I told him that Erin grew up on a dairy farm outside of Old Washington, east of Cambridge. He said not the dairy farm on Range Rd. run by Henry Wells. Turns out my barber, Pete, was the same barber that used to cut the hair of Erin's brothers. And I was indeed coming home smelling like "wucky tiger."
Just thought I'd share the "wucky tiger" inside joke; let me know if I am remembering the story correctly.
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3 comments:
unbelievable
That is a pretty crazy story. What a small world. I hope part of the old-schoolness involved cash only. You know those crazy credit cards double bill nowadays!
That is blasphemy! I never let him use that God-awful "Wucky Tyger"! That stuff smells terrible! --- Sincerely, Your Brother-In-Law
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