My barber is named Haim and he might be a bowler on the side as he grips my head like he is about to roll it down an alley! A great guy who I discovered a few years ago he greets you with a smile and a handshake and with flair shake the cover he sets around my neck.
But as I entered there was something different this time. Both Haim and his associate, a lady both welcomed me and asked to curt my hair. Since Haim was closest, I choose Haim and sat in his chair. The woman stood standing in the middle of the shop looking kind of dejected and I felt like a heel. I assure you it was not because she was a woman, but because Haim was closer.
As Haim began I notice she was still standing in the same spot and looking a little rejected. Haim gripped dribble and tossed my head about as he ritualistically and I must say creatively readjusted my hairline when finally he was done.
Giving my approval as he posed the mirror behind my head and stood up to pay with a mission in mind. I paid my $16 and gave him a $4 tip, then, with great athletic ability swung on my heels and went over to the woman barber and gave her $3 to soothe my guilt and alleviate my sense of rudeness. In her Spanish accent, she refused at first telling me I didn’t need to do this and for what? I insisted and Haim told her to take it.
She has cut my hair before, she does a great job when she does, it was just a matter of who was closest.
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