I was looking for a place to get a blowout last week, and I came across a salon on Melrose that I had never heard of before. I read through a couple of their Yelp posts, it was just too good.
Stag Hair Parlor, Ary M:
I've been wearing a disaster on my head for the past few weeks; decided I need a haircut, right? Past by this spot a couple times but finally walked in yesterday for the first time. First, I was greeted by a legit fella. Then I was offered a beer. I was like, "Whaaat. Am I on that new show 'How To Catch an Alcholic.'" Nah. I wasn't. It was just good folks giving awesome service and hospitality.
Then I got Jerry, my ninja, to work his magic on my hair. The dude is legit. I gave a vague description of what I wanted and this cat knew exactly what I had envisioned. Was super detailed and made sure I looked sexually attractive.
I catch my reflection now and I'm like, "Yo. Who the fuck is this handsome fella looking at me in the mirror son?!"
Overall: great staff, awesome service, legit interior decor and free beer - pfft, who the fuck says no to free booze?
Wanna look attractive as fuck? You best hide yo wife, hide yo kids and get yourself to Stag booboo.
Let me set the scene for you. I go to sushi with my friends Erin and Artem at some dive on Santa Monica Boulevard. Brendan, coming from the Equality Awards at the Beverly Hills Hotel, meets up with us in full on black tie. We decide to go to The Abby, so we all pile in Erin's early 90's BMW station wagon, which curiously has a built-in car phone with a cord. This is a photo of a hot mess hanging out the window with a wine glass in hand driving down the boulevard, the cord wrapped around his neck screaming, "SELL EVERYTHING I TELL YOU!" And this was just the beginning....Gotta love West Hollywood.