Barbershop Talk

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How in the world did this lady get such good reviews? I asked myself as I sat, draped by her haircloth. 

My usual barber was out, and my hair was getting uncontrollable. Walking in to this barbershop I had never gone to, I was just hoping that this barber would be able to fix my mess. The middle-aged Asian woman took one good look at me, rolled her eyes and sighed before hanging up on her FaceTime call. To compound the issue, this barber was having trouble understanding what I wanted with my hair.

“Tell me what you want!” she frustratingly urged through her thick Vietnamese accent.

I wasn’t sure if she completely understood me, so for the rest of the time I squinted at the mirror (my glasses were taken off) to make sure that this Vietnamese stranger wouldn’t destroy my hair. Her eyes were held a steel gaze both cold and ruthless.

Somehow this barber had a near 5 star rating, at least according to Google. If you asked me, I’d give her a one.

The barber eventually tried to engage in small talk, which was a start I guess. Maybe she could get a two now. 

Then she broke.

Her cold eyes looked to be on the verge of shattering. She told me that earlier that morning, another lady had posted a hurtful review on Yelp regarding this barber. I saw the barber walk to the other side of the barbershop to grab her phone. She tapped a few buttons, rather slowly, and then held her arm out to show me a long, angry post filled with capitalized words. 

Apparently this other lady’s nails needed finger paint before some concert that weekend, and she was less than pleased that my current barber was busy with someone another customer at the time. I’ll spare you the details of the post, as it took quite some time to read. 

“Why did she say those things?” my barber asked me, as if I had some kind of mind-reading mutant gene. 

Unfortunately, I’m no mutant. I did have eyes however, and those eyes saw a woman carrying a look of desperation. 

I did have ears, and those ears heard a voice close to choking over whatever it was on her phone.

I thought I was throwing money at someone to fix what had become a hideous heap of hair resting on my head. I think Someone had different plans.