First Haircut in Italy

"NORMALE?!"

If there was ever a Sunday for me to be dressed in "Sunday Best," it is tomorrow.  I'm attending the Easter mass at St. Peter's, the first for Pope Francis I.  Tomorrow is the pantheon of Sunday Bests.

After two and half months in Italy, my hair was starting to get a little shaggy and I needed a haircut.  I asked my buddy if he knew a place, and he said yes, so I followed his directions to get to a place with a sign out front that said "Barbiere."

Although, he said they didn't speak much English there.  I was worried that I would come out with a terrible haircut, which would be disastrous right before Easter Sunday.

I walked in to see two older men busy at work cutting hair, with one guy in the waiting chairs.  No one said anything to me, so I took a seat.  It was setup just like any other barber shop you would see back in the states, but it wasn't exactly touristy, as all of the reading material was in Italian and the radio was broadcasting was an Italian soccer game.  

After the other guy in the waiting room went to get his haircut, it was my turn.  "Prego," the hairdresser said as he pointed at me.  I took a seat while he wrapped the bib around me.

"Normale?" he asked, inquiring about what length I wanted my hair.  I didn't want to reveal I was American, so I didn't say anything and just nodded.   I mean, what's the worst thing that could happen after agreeing to a haircut where the hairdresser said "normale?"

He continued to cut my hair, and it actually came out looking great.  It was only six euros as well.  I'm all set to be dressed in Sunday Best tomorrow.

So now I know what length to get my hair cut in Italy: normale.  So I've got that going for me...

I'll be back tomorrow with a post about Easter Sunday.

JC