I am not a hair person. I don’t even know how to braid hair (it tends to come out like an ugly rope). Struggling with split ends the last few weeks, I decided it was haircut time. Chris told me about his beloved Astor Place Hair, where even mayoral candidates and celebrities go, and I was completely thrown off guard. It was one of the most chaotic and unexpected experiences I have had in this city. You walk in, and it’s like one gigantic barber shop with a zillion barbers, people talking in all languages and accents, and stylists running around like mad men. Definitely not relaxing by any means, but it was fast and cheap, and my stylist smiled more than anyone else ever has while cutting my hair. I’ll be back.