so, I wanted to get a haircut today at lunch. Where does a guy with my hair style go to get his hair cut? Barber. I google mapped up the closest barber to the office where I was working. Makes sense, right? Did to me anyway. Place looked like a barber shop on the outside (had a barber poll) and I didn't notice much else about it. I guess it just looked like a regular barber shop. It isn't like there are tons of these around anymore and that is partly why I seek them out. So, I walk in.
Oh, this isn't a barber shop, this is the barber shop. You know the one. I think it was in at least 2 Eddie Murphy movies and countless others. Well, I opened the door, I was going to go in. In fact, seemed kinda cool to me. For those of you who do not frequent barber shops, the custom is to sit and wait your turn, they will get to you when they get to you. So that is what I did. I am not blind, there were 7 of us in the place and I was the only white man. Most were younger then me and dressed as such. It was cold and snowing out so timberland boots, down jackets and beanies were what I would have expected anyone to be wearing. I had a book on my for the wait and started to read it but soon began eavesdropping and observing instead. At least one of the customers had just finished college and one more was well on his way. The conversations were free flowing and sing song but muted.
Then the old timer walked in and court was in session. He proceeded to sit in the middle barber chair and set in on every single individual. Everyone knew everyone else in there (besides me). This was when I was granted permission to participate. After a few muted chuckles at his boisterous descriptions he turned to me and asked: you arabian or somethin'? or just a plain old white boy? Plain old white boy here. Well, you must not be around here, because around here plain old white boys don't come around here. yea, from california. Well around here, we don't mix. Where was this going? I suppose it was up to me, and it was. I simpy said where I am from people's people. (yea I got in the spirit a little bit, so what?)
From there I realized that they were freaked out in a way that I had intruded into their sanctuary. They all had to fit into the white world outside those doors, but in there they didn't have to be anything or anyone. Once I joined the sentiment it was on. I was a full participant in the barber shop banter until my cut was done. Also, while I was getting cut, my barber was asking me computer questions very softly, so no one else could hear what he was asking about. He knew quite a bit and was totally on it
I got to tell ya, that 2 hours I spent there made my week. Before, I had been slaving tirelessly all week, not working less than 15 hours any day.
Once the door is open, don't hesistate, walk in. You never know what you are going to find.
Oh, this isn't a barber shop, this is the barber shop. You know the one. I think it was in at least 2 Eddie Murphy movies and countless others. Well, I opened the door, I was going to go in. In fact, seemed kinda cool to me. For those of you who do not frequent barber shops, the custom is to sit and wait your turn, they will get to you when they get to you. So that is what I did. I am not blind, there were 7 of us in the place and I was the only white man. Most were younger then me and dressed as such. It was cold and snowing out so timberland boots, down jackets and beanies were what I would have expected anyone to be wearing. I had a book on my for the wait and started to read it but soon began eavesdropping and observing instead. At least one of the customers had just finished college and one more was well on his way. The conversations were free flowing and sing song but muted.
Then the old timer walked in and court was in session. He proceeded to sit in the middle barber chair and set in on every single individual. Everyone knew everyone else in there (besides me). This was when I was granted permission to participate. After a few muted chuckles at his boisterous descriptions he turned to me and asked: you arabian or somethin'? or just a plain old white boy? Plain old white boy here. Well, you must not be around here, because around here plain old white boys don't come around here. yea, from california. Well around here, we don't mix. Where was this going? I suppose it was up to me, and it was. I simpy said where I am from people's people. (yea I got in the spirit a little bit, so what?)
From there I realized that they were freaked out in a way that I had intruded into their sanctuary. They all had to fit into the white world outside those doors, but in there they didn't have to be anything or anyone. Once I joined the sentiment it was on. I was a full participant in the barber shop banter until my cut was done. Also, while I was getting cut, my barber was asking me computer questions very softly, so no one else could hear what he was asking about. He knew quite a bit and was totally on it
I got to tell ya, that 2 hours I spent there made my week. Before, I had been slaving tirelessly all week, not working less than 15 hours any day.
Once the door is open, don't hesistate, walk in. You never know what you are going to find.
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