The Red Devil was about today, in the lobby, dragging his shadow up the stairs with dramatic affectation. He wears a little hat and a turtleneck and red face paint. He has a twirled moustache, a fancy little thing balanced on his upper lip, accenting one of those goat beards. To see him, you might wonder if there is also a cloven hoof inside his size 10.5 loafers.
Why does he decorate himself in this way? With the red face paint that gets all over his turtleneck? Why does he make himself into the image of the devil? No one knows. Putting aside the muttering and giggling, he would be perfectly normal except for the caked on red makeup.
He does not frighten me. The women fear him. The call him 'El Diablo'. They shrink into the cracks when he passes. Maybe he hates the human race? Maybe he was born this way? Who knows? I stand my ground, give him a look like I will kick your phoney devil ass if you mess with me. What brings a man to this point? It makes you wonder.
Currently, I am selling men's items. Shoes, cufflinks, novelty pens (an excellent icebreaker in a business meeting situation. You turn the pen upside down and voila! The little lady's bikini disappears!), lighters, combs, nail clippers, cologne....accessories.
You must look your best. I also give haircuts, on the benches in the park, on the steps of the church, in the cafe on the corner. Snip, snip, snip....and finish off with a dab of pomade to keep you presentable when the wind comes howling between the buildings. You can enjoy a coffee like a king while I set to work and make you look good. This little business of mine provides enough money for food and rent.
So, for example, I will pick people out of the crowd, assess their look, tell them, for example. that they would greatly benefit from a new tie. Ties are very important. In the sea of flannel and tweed, a man's tie is a brief glimpse of his inner personality, the colour of his soul. Little palm trees? Hula girls? Paisley? Crazy style? Come on man, I have what you need. When you are in town next, you look me up. I have hundreds of styles to choose from. The best silks. Hong Kong and Europe.
I hit the financial district in the mornings, get those guys ready for battle. Will you face the office today looking like that?? I ask, pointing at a sad tie or a wilting crew cut or a scuffed shoe. You are only operating at 87% brother. Let me help you maximise your potential. Remember the devil is in the details. Give me five minutes and I will have you looking like a million dollars. Believe me.
You know who's hair I cut once? Old Blue Eyes. That's right. One hundred dollars he paid me. A single, crisp note. True story. He was sitting by the window in the Sir Francis Drake Hotel when I was working there as a concierge. This was after the war. Do you know of a barber? he asked me. Sir, I said, I can take care of this for you. A pair of scissors and a comb were procured and I set to work. You see? Here is a photograph of me cutting the man's hair. The picture does not lie!
And the hair clippings? Yes, once I had finished, I cleaned up and put the clippings into an envelope. And they have stayed with me for many years as a good luck charm. But now I think you are in need of some good luck. And this brings me to my point. Today I will sell you Old Blue Eye's hair clipping. They are yours. This is history, inside this very envelop. Think about it: walking around with Old Blue Eyes in your breast pocket! The confidence it will inspire! The women! My God! I am not a superstitious man but I can tell you with complete certainty...this little envelop and its contents have opened doors for me. Many doors. These strands will change your life. And all I ask is my original fee, okay? One hundred dollars. Inflation will not factor into the sale.
Think it over. Take your time.
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