Pretty much since the new year, I let me hair just go. This was mostly because I’d lost the coordinates for Arthur, the Scottish barber who first dealt with my hair in 2006, and I’d been following him from location to location. I have weird hair, and Arthur knew just what to do to make it behave.
A couple of weeks back, I was wandering idly along the Danforth, and after looking into a barber’s window, cursed the fact that I’d lost touch with Arthur. I walked a little further and — as if by magic — met Arthur. It seems he’s moved to the neighbourhood, so now we’re back in touch. The haircut I got on the weekend is awesome.
Arthur now does house calls (preferably near TTC stops), and is looking for some new clients. He’s been doing this for longer than you’ve (likely) been alive. I hesitate to post his phone number, so please contact me and I’ll pass on the details.