Some years ago a barbershop opened up in my hometown of Graz. The shop reminded me of a fancy Wild West salon with noble gentlemen (the barbers), and I absolutely loved the Christmas decoration in the window featuring the polar express and polar bears. As neat as the place looks, as expensive it is. For a cut they charge 52 euros ($60). But the treatment takes 30 minutes and includes some stylish fragrant hair lotion. They also serve Scottish whiskey, Caribbean rum, or local beer while you’re waiting.

Personally, I don’t care about such perks. Yet I loved the look of the place so much I just had to check it out. According to the sign on the door though, the shop’s for men only and since I’m a woman, my husband came in very handy. Rick normally goes to the same hair stylist as I but as a Christmas gift he got to go to that salon.

Rick has allowed me only once in his life to cut his hair, and that was during the COVID lockdown. Although I put lots of love into my art, he wasn’t fond of the mushroom cut I gave him. So, when he came out of the barbershop in Graz, looking super fancy with the shiny hair lotion, I cracked up — the barber had given him the same mushroom cut I’d fabricated back in the U.S.! Needless to say Rick never went there again.

Back in Pennsylvania, I visited my best friend who — unlike me — isn’t a fan of shaggy hair. Fortunately his hair had become so shaggy he was willing to take me with to the barbershop where he’s been going for years. I always tell my students, “When you’re in a foreign culture and don’t know how to behave, copy the behavior of the natives around you,” and since I didn’t know anything about American barbershops, I decided to follow my own advice.

Through the shop’s window, my friend could see the lady who usually cuts his hair and also happens to be an old school friend. He pushed down the doorhandle and we both entered. No one said a word: neither the two barber ladies, nor my friend, nor the two men whose hair was being cut, nor the man waiting. And so, I didn’t say a word either.

We sat down in the chairs in the back, across from the man waiting. Because it was so quiet, I didn’t dared to talk, and instead curiously looked around.

To my surprise, the chairs of the two customers whose hair was being cut didn’t face the mirror but the window toward Main Street. While the first customer watched the cars going by, the second one enjoyed the barber’s back.

The door opened and another man walked in, sitting down two chairs from me. I made the mistake of looking in his direction because there was a door right next to him, and I wanted to read the sign hanging there. I don’t know what it said because he started talking to me, wanting to know, with a big grin on his face, if I was here to get a cut too.

When the one customer was done, the lady told him how much he owed. He paid her and they parted without saying goodbye. The man who’d come in before us told the lady what cut he wanted, and then silence returned. Another man came in and sat down in the waiting area. Fortunately he knew the guy who’d wanted to be chatty with me and they talked. In contrast to me, they didn’t whisper. Their conversation actually entertained the entire place.

Now it was my friend’s turn to get a cut. Luckily he got the chair looking out on Main Street. He made a couple of efforts to converse with his school friend but she had no interest in talking and just quietly cut his hair. Meanwhile, another man came in. It was getting really crowded in the waiting area. Another customer had to squeeze himself in the chair between me and the chatty guy.

Suddenly my friend signaled me he was done. I’d totally missed him paying. I stood up and said goodbye to the chatty guy. As he’d talked with me, my Austrian upbringing wouldn’t have allowed me to leave without acknowledging him. Of course, neither my friend nor his school friend said goodbye.

As soon as we’d walked a few steps away from the shop, I busted out laughing.

“Thank you so much!” I tried to say while almost peeing my pants. “I’m so glad you took me there. That was hilarious!”

“Why?” He looked completely puzzled.

“Do you guys always walk in and leave without anyone ever moving an eyebrow?” I giggled. “And is your school friend always so tight-lipped with you?”

“I never gave it any thought,” he said. “It’s always been like that.”

I couldn’t stop laughing, and I still crack up when thinking about it. While I may never find out if this American barbershop was just unusual, or if others are like that too, I sure want to go back there. This truly was better than any comedy show I’ve ever seen on TV. My friend’s hair is getting shaggy again, and now that I’m back from Austria, I’m due for a visit. So, fingers crossed he’ll take me again!

Dr. Daniela Ribitsch, a native of Austria, is a resident of Lock Haven.