Mar 26, 04 07:47 pm — I went to get my hair done and my eyebrows shaped. Now, I've written a journal about Paula (my stylist) before -- and she is always a source of amusement. But today fucking rules.

I get to the salon and there's a new guy behind the register. I say hi to everyone (I've been going there for at least 10 years) and he introduces himself. He says, "My name's Richard. But everyone calls me Little Dick."

I was gonna laugh, but I swallowed my gum.

He was a DWARF.

And he reeked of booze.

So Paula does my eyebrows and puts the color on my hair and we step outside so she can smoke and tell me all about this new drunk dwarf named Little Dick.

She says he comes to work loaded and FALLS OFF HIS CRATE. (He stands on a crate to cut hair.) I said, "Where the hell did he come from?" She said he just wandered in one day and the owner was so stunned he hired him on the spot. The bummer is, he sometimes passes out at work.

And I got to see it.

He was working the phones while she was shaping my hair and we heard this THUNK. She looks over and sees Little Dick with his head on the counter. She calls over to one of the other stylists,

"JOE! THE MIDGET'S DOWN AGAIN!"

It was the best ever.

And I have a nice haircut.