Barbershops are exclusive clubs that were designed to be the ultimate clubhouse for MEN. In a barbershop, fellas can bond and be honest about their thoughts and feelings without the prying scrutiny of womanhood poking away at their souls. There’s literally nothing else to do in a barbershop but talk sh*t with your comrades, get a fresh fade, watch sports, and partake in the free-spirited wisdom that echoes off the dusty mirrors. Going to the barbershop should be a cornerstone of any young man’s formative years. While the barbershop is a place of organized confusion, there are still certain laws that dictate how they operate. These rules are unwritten but are still observed and maintained and this tradition gets passed down from each generation to the next. Every now and then, these rules are broken, but for the most part they stand unchanged throughout the years. In case you are unaware of the barbershop’s invisible code, allow us briefly enlighten you on seven things that don’t belong in a barbershop. Crackheads For what it’s worth, people who are addicted to crack cocaine are victims of a terrible epidemic that is destroying families and communities in Urban America at an alarming rate. Far be it from me to judge them, but let’s be real here. Nobody wants to hang out with a crackhead. I know from personal experience that you can’t trust them farther than you can throw them (which is actually pretty far, depending on how much they smoke). Remember Smokey from “The PJs” or Dave Chappelle’s Tyrone Biggums? Those are prime examples of a crackhead. The last place you want to be with a crackhead is in a warm, crowded room waiting for a haircut. Why? Because that gives him ample time to try to coerce you out of 35 cents or your last Newport cigarette or even swipe your car keys while you’re not looking. It’s not so bad if they have good hygiene, but who am I kidding? A man (or woman) fixated on blazing up a piece of rock cocaine isn’t worried about toothbrushes or bars of soap. If you find yourself engaged in conversation with a crackhead at the barbershop, make sure you know where your wallet and smartphone are at all times.
Babies Babies are adorable. Hell, I’ll have a new one to look after in a few months. But for all the cutesy things they can do, they are also possibly the most annoying creatures on the planet. For starters, babies can’t talk, therefore their only true means of communication is crying. They cry if their hungry, sleepy, soaking in pee-pee, scared, cold, etc. That alone is reason enough to NOT allow them to breach the hectic tranquility of the barbershop, because it’s hard to talk about who Stevie J is boning over the shrieks of a human puppy. But wait, there’s more. Babies often smell like poo (because all they do is eat, sh*t, and sleep), and that offensive odor rides dense, warm air like a subway train of doo-doo to the nearest set of nostrils. A barbershop ceiling fan is no match for such muscle-bound funk. Babies also have the power to make any adult talk like an overzealous moron who never attended english class, and “baby talk” is one of those things that shouldn’t be allowed in a barbershop. The only thing they’re good for is getting a woman to expose her breast (for feeding purposes), but woman aren’t allowed in a barbershop, so forget about that happening.
Bling (And Other Expensive Things) People don’t give barbershops enough credit for being one of the least secure businesses you could own. In fact, plenty of the barbershops I’ve frequented didn’t even have cash registers, let alone any type of actual security measures. Some had a dog, but the dog was too old to attack anything and was only there waiting for the sweet release of death. There were times in my life when I’d get high before going to get my hair cut and subsequently spent the entire time paranoid out of my mind, waiting for a group of masked men to run inside and take everyone’s haircut money and tennis shoes. (I’m sure this type of thing happens more often than the average person is aware of, too.) For that reason alone, I leave all unimportant items — like jewelry, watches, unnecessary electronic devices — in the car or at the crib. And in case you’re wondering, you can gauge the safety of a barbershop by its proximity to the hamburger stand, the liquor store, and a church. If it sits at an equal point between all three establishments, the likelihood of a getting robbed — whether inside or while walking to the bus stop — is relatively high. Well, it least in the ‘hood it is. All that iPhone flossing won’t do you any good if the wolves decide it’s time to eat and you won’t even see them coming because you’ll be trying to find a way to beat level 126 of Candy Crush Saga.
The Hustleman Barbershops are the perfect hunting grounds for the hustleman. Those are people who have taken life by the proverbial horns and decided to sell things to strangers all day for a living. Be it incense, weed, illegally recorded movies and albums, clothes, home-cooked dinners, clothing, body oils, their own music (which usually sounds terrible), bootleg lotions/perfume, or stolen toys, the list is virtually endless. These folks’ livelihoods depend on you buying their goods, and luckily for them — in the barbershop — you’ve nowhere to run or hide from their advances. Waiting for the barber to motion you to his magical chair should be a peaceful endeavor, one that’s not disturbed by some dude’s half-assed hustle and his heartfelt speech about needing to feed his 13 children. If nothing else, they should set up a stand in the corner of the parking lot like the Tamale Lady or the Hot Dog vendor at the local public park. Listen; talking to me about your struggles isn’t going to make me cop a bottle of Patchouli body oil, a pack of Strawberry incense, or a church-sponsored chicken dinner, no matter how many dollars you knock off of the price.
Man Love We live in a world where acceptance and tolerance are prevalent factors of society. Humans are expected to accept people for who they are, or want to be, without judgments or second guesses. However one chooses to live their lives is fine by me, but certain areas of humanity are still relatively gray. One of those areas is the barbershop. Television and music preach unconditional love for your fellow humans, but in the barbershop, that’s just empty rhetoric. A man bringing his boyfriend there and expecting no one to stare is ridiculous. Even the slightest hint at a gay relationship will have Otis — the 80-year-old Black man who sweeps up the hair — questioning your motives. It’s kind of like being a Black guy on a golf course before Tiger Woods made it okay. Be a martyr if you want to, that’s your prerogative. But be ready for supreme side-eyes and scrutiny when you giggle and put your masculine palm on your partner’s skinny jean-covered knee. It’s nothing personal, it’s just tradition. Side note: this rule changes if it’s two lesbians. Men love lesbians and cat fights, no matter what rules they observe.
The Faint of Heart Anything can happen in the barbershop: drug deals, stabbings, fist fights, all of those things you see on WorldstarHipHop.com. True story: I used to get my haircut at a shop in the ‘hood. One day, I got a cut in the A.M., left, came back 30 minutes later and my barber was bloodied up in the parking lot. Someone robbed and pistol-whipped him. Craziest part was that I almost stayed to use the restroom but someone was in there. Needless to say, I haven’t been back to that place since. I’ve had barbers who smoked weed in their shops, allowed drug dealers to set up their operations in the back, I even once got my haircut at a spot where the main barber kept a pistol on his hip. I’ve witnessed arguments over a Lakers losing streak start with jokes and end in guys getting knocked out, laying face down in a pile of the next man’s shaven naps. It can get brutal in a place that’s devoid any femininity. It’s like the back of the bus, but with more space to accommodate the chaos. When you go, don’t act scared, because they can smell fear from a mile away.
Your GF/Wife/Daughter Barbershops are masculine domains of loud talking, rude gestures, and blunt conversation. As a rule of thumb, ladies aren’t allowed inside (unless their good-for-nothing baby daddy won’t take their son to get a haircut). For lack of a better bit of imagery, a barbershop is tantamount to a lion’s den, with the exception of its electricity and running water. If a
slab of meat happens to ease through the bars, you can bet your weed money that the animals will pounce. If not physically, mentally. The last thing your wife/daughter/girlfriend wants to do is get ogled by a batch of hungry cats for 45 minutes while they whisper to one another and lick their chops. Save yourself the hassle and possible fist fight and leave her in the car. Or better yet, at home, because hyenas roam around outside
in the parking lot and they can be just as vicious as the lions inside. Maybe even more so if they can’t afford to get edged up like you can. The barber’s chair can feel like a prison cell as you helplessly watch the vultures swoop down on your loved one. If that happens, you must choose between your pride or a jacked-up taper, and that’s a choice any man should never have to make. Hit us in the comments with other things that don’t belong in the barbershop!
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