Yesterday, I needed a haircut. And when I need a haircut I automatically become very money conscious. (Why can’t this happen when I go out to eat?) So the debate always comes down to, “Do I REALLY need a haircut or can I push it back another week?” I REALLY needed one. Then it came down to the finances, if I actually had $12 to spare. So I drove to the ATM and found out that I did have enough. Yes! And while I was pulling away I remembered that there was a Barber Shop around the corner that I had always wanted to check out.
In the Toy R Us and Barnes and Nobles shopping center, off to the far right side, is a small store front labeled, “Suburban Barber Shop.” The walk from the parking lot to the front door sounds like you are in the middle of the interstate but once you enter that door the hush of the clippers and the chime of the door bell fills your ears. Three barber chairs, all out dating me by twenty years. Each mirror had the barbers name printed on it in Old English type. A row of vinyl covered chairs faces the mirrors with Car & Driver and Field & Stream stung out between them. Plain white walls with only an SEC wall clock and one sign the states, “All Haircuts $10.00.” This was definitely a good choice.
When I entered I had two people in front of me so I sat down with a sailing magazine and passed the time listening to the conversation that makes a barber shop a “Barber Shop.” Paul, called me up with the slapping of the seat to clean off all the previous customers hair. I sat down and told him “3 on the sides and scissors on top,” he agreed and got to it. We shot the breeze about Gatlinburg and the best steak places up there, If Tiger’s wife actually swung at him with a golf club, and how Paul had “gaps” in his knees. All through out the haircut conversation Paul did as old guys do, he knugged my side every once in a while when he told a joke or gave me advise; all without missing a beat on cutting my hair.
It was the best clipper cut I have ever received; around the ears, sideburns, fade, and neck. He chopped the top dry with just the scissors and comb, none of this pull-place-measure-squeeze-cut non sense. Then he brushed me off and as I was about to get up and pay the good man he lathered up my back of my neck and gave me a single blade shave! That was by far the cherry on top. I couldn’t believe it. As he finished up and blow dried my hair with the hose, I jumped down and handed him a twenty. Paul then grabbed the wad of cash out of his front shirt pocket (I am convinced that shirt pockets only exist for this guy and his trade), licked his finger and gave me a ten. I then slide him a tip and I was out the door with a “You come on back ya hear, and bring ya friends?!” and I most definitely will.
So anyone up for a classic barber?