If you've seen me recently, you might think that I'm talking about myself... but no, this is an email from a particular hair cutting 'salon' or whatever that I used to go to:
Subject: Invitation to Beach Party
We're havin' a beach party right here at <omitted> on Saturday June 28th. It's gonna run all day so drop by any time. Ok so we don't have much of a beach. But we will have a wading pool filled with bottles of beer. That's gotta count for something. And we're gonna cook up some other "hot" specials to make you feel like you're at the beach. Like we are abandoning our dress code for the day (uh-huh), hot lather shaves demos at our shave bar, free hot dogs, massage specials, give aways. You know the drill. We just wanted to say thanks for being a loyal member of the GQ community. Hope to see you there and feel free to bring a friend!
I had pretty much written these guys off because the last haircut, aside from being mediocre, consisted of a sale pitch on how they're changing their prices to represent the 'experience' of the stylist. Why would I pay YOU more for a crappy haircut than the person next to you for the same crappy haircut?
Meh. Time for a haircut.
