Conversations with Girls, #1: The Beer Bottle

I've been on a lot of dates. I can't say whether that's a good thing or not, but regardless, I've built a library of stories from these experiences. This column is dedicated to the more kooky women I've had the pleasure of sharing a few drinks with. ...God bless you, I'm really glad it didn't work out between us.

When: 2003

Where: A Hair Salon in Downtown Cleveland

All I remember of this girl was that the whole night was the result of a set-up by some friends that were trying to prove to me that they're really not my friends at all. She was a hairdresser and they thought it'd be clever for me to make an appointment with her at the end of her shift, then head to the lounge next door for a drink when she was done. Like the sucker that I am, I did. The conversation in the chair went something like this:

Crazy Woman with Scissors: Any big plans for the weekend?

Me: Yeah, I have some work to do on my house then just hanging out with friends. It should be pretty low-key, but that's cool. How about you?

CWwS: Oh, low key is good. I wouldn't mind having a low-key weekend this time around. As long as it's not like last weekend, I'll be happy.

Me: Why, what happened last weekend?

CWwS: Oh, not much. ...Well, I think I really hurt someone. ...No, I'm sure he's okay, but it was freaky.

Me: What do you mean you really hurt someone? Like, broke up with a guy or something?

CWwS: No, nothing like that. (snip snip) No, I mean I think I may have put someone in the hospital. I'm pretty sure he got really fucked up.

Me: ....

CWwS: Okay, but it totally wasn't my fault. I mean, okay, here's what happened. It soooo shouldn't be a big deal, but whatever. So my friends and I are out dancing and whatever. (snip snip) And there's this guy. Well, he tried this line on me, something stupid. I don't even know what it was. Like I had pretty eyes or something. It was just...stupid. So I just hit him over the head with a beer bottle.

Me: Wait...you what?

CWwS: I know, right? Have you ever seen anyone get hit over the head with a beer bottle? It's not like it is on TV where they just fall down. Nope, not at all. There's blood. Like, gushing blood. And the glass, it just, well it just sticks in there, like little daggers.

Me: (staring at her scissors with growing paranoia) Uhh....I don't--

CWwS: Okay, but in my defense, I really didn't know it was going to be like that. You know? Like I said, every time I see it happen on TV or in the movies, the guy who gets hit doesn't bleed. He just falls down, or doesn't do anything at all. Like 'John What's-his-name' in that college movie...Animal something-or-other

Me: Animal House

CWwS: Yeah! He just stood there and he even hit himself! This guy...no way, man. He just fell backwards, put his hands over his face and just started screaming. Like this; AHHHhhh! Aghhhhhhh! (she actually mimicked him screaming in pain). It was awful.

Me: Uh huh.

CWwS: And you know the worst part?

Me: God, no. What?

CWwS: I actually felt the glass cut his skin, you know? Like the edges of the bottle just dug in there and totally ripped open his scalp. I felt it. So weird... (At this point, she kind of trailed off, stopped cutting my hair and stared off into space for a few seconds.)

Me: Umm? Hi?

CWwS: What? Oh yeah. So anyway, we just grabbed out stuff and bolted. That's messed up, right?

Me: (nervously) Totally, yeah.

CWwS: So that was my weekend. Nuts, huh? Hopefully I won't be doing any more of that any time soon. Haha.

Me: (even more nervously) Heh heh, ...Let's hope so.

CWwS: (frighteningly sarcastic and wielding her scissors toward the mirror) So you better be nice to me... Haha...

Me: ...oh, don't you worry.

The rest of the time I was in that God-forsaken chair, I sat in awkward silence, not knowing quite what to say for fear that she'd take it wrong and plunge those scissors into my jugular. She, on the other hand, seemingly took no notice as she finished my whack job of a hair cut, whistling to herself the entire time. Needless to say, I skipped out on drinks afterwards, mumbling some excuse about having to finish up some office work for a deadline. I also walked away from her sporting the worst hair cut I've ever gotten in my life.

I went back to a friend that worked in the same salon a week or so later, specifically on a day that she wasn't working, only to find out that I just missed her being fired. They fixed my hair the best they could, at no extra charge. I've never gone back.