I took Jonathan to get a haircut. I have been taking him to a local barbershop. The real old-school kind with a striped pole in the front and 4 chairs lined up against one wall. (I think this particular outing should really fall under Eric's job description as Dad - after all, Jonathan is 11 and having his Cuban mother take him to a place like this has got to be a tad embarrassing by now.)
They specialize in military haircuts and buzzes. None of that sissy "styling" here.
So I'm waiting for Jon and trying not to stick out like the lone Cuban woman I am with the bright RED lipstick and looking for something to read to kill those 7 minutes it's going to take the barber (actually, I call him the Prison Barber because he's got a scary Nicolas-Cage-movie-extra look about him. But that's not important right now...) to give Jonathan his $6 dollar haircut. (Eric should really be the one to do this.)
The reading material is totally indicative of the testosterone level here. (Popular Mechanics, Men's Journal, Fisherman, American Woodworker - The Router Issue, Honey!!)
So I surreptitiously take out my cell phone (because I'm not just the only Cuban woman in the place with bright RED lipstick, but the only woman with RED lipstick and a cell phone and probably the only person here who can actually use the word "surreptitiously" in a sentence) and I snap a picture.
Because who's going to believe me when I tell them that a place like this actually exists in South Orange County?
I think I'll call it...
Man World. =D