Starfucks

I really don’t know what I want to write about this. I could talk about coffee I guess. The truth is, I really just love the title.

I stole it from Sex and the City, Season 5, when Carrie and Samantha went to California by train. Prior to the trip, all the girls were at lunch, joking about opening up a brothel for women. With male prostitutes. They could have one on every corner, like Starbucks. And call it Starfucks.

Clever, right?

No, I’m not going to tell a story about how I once owned a brothel…

…Or about coffee.

… or about Sex and the City.

Although, Starbucks is a great concept. I mean, the coffee’s great, right? But what I really like is the fact that you can sit in there for hours and nobody kicks you out. I mean, in New York, you can’t hang around anyplace indoors without getting kicked out. I mean last summer, I got kicked out of a posh restaurant in the Hamptons as soon as the coffee was served. The waiter practically pulled the cup out of my hand mid-sip for God’s sake! It was like a tug-of-war or something. Can’t a girl just sit and chat over coffee after a great meal anymore? I guess not.

My sister, Hadassah, was rushed out of a Long Island diner once. Jeez. What’s the world coming to?

In Europe (and Queens) you can sit and chat for hours, over one cup of coffee.

This is the case at Starbucks. There, you can sit for hours. Some people don’t even buy anything to drink or eat in there. Folks are having major business meetings; everyone’s on their laptop; kids in strollers; people reading the paper along with sipping on their $5 vente Carmel Macchiato.

I was there a few weeks ago. You couldn’t even get a seat! There was a long table of people studying for something. One guy was pacing back and forth talking to himself. It took me a while before I realized that he was studying. I thought he was either psychotic or talking on his Bluetooth. He couldn’t sit at the table and do it. He had to stand up, pace, and talk out loud. Flailing his hands. I don’t know about anyone else, but that was totally stressing me out. If I was doing work or studying, I would have had to leave. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate. If he wasn’t going to be doing all of that, he probably should have been doing that from home. Don’t ya think?

People can be very annoying, can’t they?

But I tried to ignore him and enjoy my Grande Decaf Iced Coffee in a vente cup.

And nobody asked me to leave.

The Long Or Short Of It - 2 Don’t Fight The Curl

My high school picture is a disaster. It was taken during a grow-out phase. I was trying to grow it out for a while in my junior year. My sister tried to give it a trim once, and I ended up with this scary geometric afro. Kinda like Grace, from Will and Grace, when they would do flashbacks of Grace in High School. When the proofs came in, I scheduled a re-shoot of the picture after having my hair cut short. But it was too late. The short pix came out great, but not in time for the year book. So, til this day, I look like a scarecrow in my yearbook picture. I hoped to never become famous so the whole world wouldn’t have to see it.

Now, there are better hair products out there for curly hair. There are even hair salons the specialized in curly hair. One of which is named Ouidad. They only take curly-haired people. They don’t straighten your hair, they teach you how to work your curls. It’s fantastic! The first time I heard of such a placed I was intrigued. You go and you look to the right and to the left, in front of you or behind, and everyone is curly haired and has someone working their beautiful curls.

So my question today is NOT, 'to be curly or not to be curly?' That’s easy. My question is, 'to be short or long?' I enjoy a Halle Berry look. But people tend to get offended by it. Also, if it’s real short, I lose the curl. And if I decided to grow it out from there, I’m gonna look goofy for months and months to come.

So, since I can never decide on the length, I always have it at this in-between length, right around my neck, which I kind of hate. But I’m afraid to cut it shorter, and I also hate it longer. So, I’m stuck with this stupid haircut. Paralyzed. I don’t know what to do.

I’m due for a trim as we speak. I’m gonna have to go. But when I go, what do I ask for? A short cut? Or a trim?

I really like the idea of the curly hair salon, Ouidad. But no matter how much I spend on a haircut or where I go, Fekkai, Bumble & Bumble, Jean Louis David, Bergdorf’s Salon it doesn’t matter. It could be a $50, $150, $250 haircut. It doesn’t matter. I never like it and always end up going back to my haircutter, Tommy, at Maximus Hair Salon, in Merrick, Long Island. No one’s better. People stop me on the street to ask me where I get my hair done all the time. Tommy’s a short hair specialist. Only thing with him is, you could walk in with long hair down to your knees, and leave with a crew cut, and you didn’t ask for it! You can ask for bangs, and he will say, “No! Bangs will not look good on you.”

People kinda don’t like that.

So, it is a little scary going to him, especially with my built in fear of haircuts. I never know what I’m gonna walk out with, no matter what I walked in with. But that’s kind of the beauty and excitement of it all.

Last time I saw Tommy, I told him I was going to go for a faux hawk next time I came in. Now it’s time, and I think I’m chickening out on it. Or am I? I may go for it. New job. New life. New beginnings. New hair.

What do you think?