Kawasaki Bikers

I was talking with my co-worker today who was telling me that her boyfriend loves her belly. He loves to squeeze it and mush it. Geez. What's with these guys? Hubby likes to squeeze my stomach too. I don't like it at all. Makes me feel like a freak. I mean does he think or pretend it's a breast or something?? It would be a damn good size breast if it were one. But it ain't.

Talking about freaks, I was by my biker hairdresser the other day. I had to sift my way through two giant Kawasaki bikes in order to get to the door of the place. I sit down in the chair and he starts talking about the "toys" he sells to Hubby.

"It's no good if you have it on for 5 minutes. You need 15 minutes. I can get you whatever you want!"

Whatever happened to gossipy hairdressers?

"Do you have a catalog or something?" I asked

"No, but it depends on what you like."

"Look sweetie, I don't know what's out there. Really. I just talk to my friends - some of them anyway - and the 'rings' are what's in. I don't know about anything else."

"I can get you something ...." and he droned on very explicitly about what Hubby has to do to me and positions, etc.

Luckily, Hubby walked in to get his own hair cut, and had my dinner from Burgers Bar waiting.

"Thank God you're here. This guy won't talk to me about hair conditioner or hair masks. It's all your fault. You give him that 'other' business."

I go back into the chair waiting for him to put streaks in my hair.

"Did you hear about the lollipop?" biker hairdresser asks me.

"WHAT COLOR EXACTLY ARE YOU PUTTING INTO MY HAIR. BRIGHT RED? BLUE? GREEN?"

I didn't want lollipop colours in my hair. I should have known. He wasn't talking about hair color at all, it turns out.

This guy gives me great cuts and I must put up with his sex toy banter. Fortunately, he had to leave and gave me over to his hippie brother to blow dry my hair. Israelis call it "getting a fan". He asked me how you say it in English.

"You call it blow fluff?" he asked me.

I was going to tease him and tell him - you call it a "blow job" because he won't know the difference and it'll amuse his English speaking customers, but I was kind and told him the truth.

"Ahh Sinai." He said wistfully. He had just come back from Israeli hippie paradise over there. And we both recognized what paradise really is.