EB: Giving ’em the business!

Brain dumps from the original Bonehead.

Your kind of hair.

My girlfriend went in for a “hair consultation” today.  First of all, I’ve heard of people making appointments with a barber or hairdresser but what the hell is a hair consultation???  Do you really just sit around and talk about it?  I’m not some chest-thumping testosterone freak but I have a hard time believing that grown folk will gather to have strategy sessions about hair. 

Yeah yeah yeah.  Get to the point already!

Ok, so many many moons ago back when I was an undergrad at Rutgers, just a few weeks into my first semester of living on campus, I came upon a drastic realization: I needed a haircut… BAD!  You guys rocking a short hair cut ever go for four weeks without getting hooked up?  It’s not long before people start mistaking you for Buckwheat.

An urgent, but relatively simple dilemma right?  I just gotta find a barber shop and go get myself all suave’d up.  I utilize the resources made available to all of us broke-assed college students, namely the yellow pages under the pile of laundry in the corner, and find myself a nearby barber shop.

Yeah… um… is this going to get good anytime soon?  Seriously dude, shit or get off!

Right.  I hop on the bus bright and early one Saturday morning and ride across campus, wander aimlessly for a bit while I try to find the place, then stroll on in around 9am or so.  The place is surprisingly empty for a barber shop on a Saturday morning: three guys getting cuts, maybe three or four waiting… not the elbow-to-elbow scene I was expecting. 

Now – I did notice a little bit of confusion when I walked in.  Ever walk in on lifelong friends having a reeeaaallly private conversation?  Those kinds of looks, but nobody was saying anything or cutting any sentences short when I came in so I didn’t pay it any mind.  But the looks didn’t stop there.  I began to feel a little uncomfortable.  Liken it to walking in while your buddy is tongue-kissing a relative.  See?  Uncomfortable!

Yuck, bro.  Seriously fucking YUCK.

So now I’m trying to figure out what the problem is and just in the nick of time to save me from myself one of the barbers approaches.  He leans over and says “Can I help you with something?”.  Now any guy can tell you, this isn’t how barber shops work.  You come in and eyeball all the guys already there – they go before you.  If a guy that came in behind you is about to sit in the barber’s chair you gotta speak up or you just got beat outta your spot.  There were four guys ahead of me, and one guy already in this barber’s chair, and he’s asking me wassup?  I’m familiar with ‘barber shop etiquette’ but now I’m really confused.

“Can I help you with something?”

“I just came to get a haircut.”

“Um… we don’t do your kind of hair here, Son.”

BAM!  Right then, right there, I looked around the room again and then it hit me.  There were eleven guys in the room but I was the only Black man.  During the course of my life I’d wanted to be racially colorblind for so so long that I never realized that I’d finally done it… until that day. 

While walking out I remember thinking: Maybe Buckwheat isn’t so bad after all.


September 22, 2005 - Posted by | Personal Revelations


  1. You should have skullfucked that guy after they said that.

    I’m just sayin’.

    Comment by Glenda | September 22, 2005 | Reply

  2. Honestly, the thought never crossed my mind. I’ve got this sort of path-of-least-resistance thing that I do… I tend to not want to be where I’m not wanted. When he hit me with that I just figured I didn’t want him to have my hard earned money and walked out.

    Comment by barber | September 22, 2005 | Reply

  3. stupid fuckheads!

    Comment by carlos | September 24, 2005 | Reply

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