My friend Liz was studiing to be a hairdresser in Washington D.C. She needed someone to practice on and I was elected. I would go to her apartment where she would make me dinner and while we were waiting she would cut my hair. Great plan and she did a great job with dinner and my hair.
After she graduated she got her first job in this swank hair salon. The place was all glass and gold and the haircuts were $ 50.00 a whack. Dutifully I went to get my style, and I think I was her first customer because she was so nervous. Some where along the way she nicked my ear with the scissors and I started bleeding all over the white on white whatever it is they put on you to protect your clothes. Her boss saw me gushing blood and freaked out. A terrible scene erupted with me in the middle. Poor Lizzie, her first customer, a slit ear lobe, blood everywhere, and her boss screaming and apologizing.
I was as calm as a cucumber, it wasn’t the first time she had cut my ear lol. After the clean up and my hair cut, her boss was sure I was going to sue or something. I assured her I was not and that Liz was the best hairdresser anywhere and my friend and I would never sue my friend or her salon. Now I got free haircuts at the swanky salon too.
A few years pass and Lizzie moves back to Ireland leaving me shaggy and shaggier. The good thing was that Joyce and I were headed to Ireland that very September and Belfast was on our radar. After visiting Donnygal we headed north east to Belfast. Our prearranged meeting place was Robinson’s Pub, the oldest pub in Belfast. And, after getting lost a few times, asking directions(yes I said asking directions)a few times we made it to Robinson’s Pub and called her. She raced down to meet us.
Back to her mother’s house of the Falls Road and my haircut. The next morning Wee Lizzie took us to the local pub were she introduced us to the owner, an IRA leader wher he proceeded to tell everyone present that the two Yanks were friends of his and not to be harassed in any way. From then on we were treated like royalty, not English royalty mind you, but royalty all the same. By the time we left and went up the Falls Road people on the street were wishing us well and calling us by name.
Joyce loved the Irish music and the Ira was known for having the best music in town. Liz knew of a place called the Felon Club where they were playing mucic that night so es headed on over arriving late as usual and being told the place was full. Wee Lizzie, in her best Irish accent, pleaded ” Me friends came all the way from America to hear traditional Irish music” and so they pulled out some beer crates and set them up right in front of the stage for us to see the bands. Me friends came all the way from America.
A lot more happened but I don’t have the time right now, needless to say the Joyce and I went to the two worst places in Belfast, where the tourist book said never to go to, and had the greatest time ever. Thank You Wee Lizzie.