I love the barber shop. When asked what my hobbies are, I am usually too sheepish to say that getting my hair cut is one of them. There's something about it that I just love- that you can't get at a salon......like:* When your'e waiting your turn and a shrunken old man climbs up into the chair the way a child scales a jungle gym and quietly suggests, "My wife likes the waves." and points to his head. He means- leave it longer on top.
* Watching a boy get his first haircut at the barber's.
* Listening to barbers' stories- like about the drill seargents in boot camp who, when teaching a group of new enlistees to hand wash their clothes, said, "First, you take the left sock...." just so they could mess with the guy who said, "Which one's the left sock, sir?"or chatting about the strange habbits of the mysterious men that actually exist somewhere who come in and pay the $10 for a "Beard Trim".
* Hot foam shaving cream. Straight razors. Cigar smoke.
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Yes, and remember the good ol' days when it was common practice to get a hot towel and a shave? Well, okay, we're both too young to remember this, but I've always liked the idea. I encouraged Wes to go pay for a lather and straight-edged razor shave, just for the experience. He looked at me like I was nuts.
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