When someone looks at me, they might be tempted to assume that my relationship with my barber is a cordial one. This, however, would be a great error in assumption. I have not always harbored such ambivalent feelings towards my barber, but things have changed.
Once, in my more neophyte years, I trusted my barber with my pride and joy. Not only is my pride gone but also my joy has a different shine to it. In those days, I had plenty of hair, even on the top. Now, after a half-century of going to the barber, it is quite thin on the top and I blame my barber for that. It only makes sense. Before going to the barber, I had plenty of hair, now it is rather thin. Who would you blame?
Besides this, I have several issues with my barbershop.
First, I have a problem with the magazines. It used to be that the barbershop had a wonderful selection of outdoor and sports magazines. Sure, they were several years old but how can you date a classic? The ones now are usually ladies journals or those dreadful celebrity gossip magazines. Who cares who is doing what to whom? The only men that read these magazines are those held hostage in these newfangled barbershops.
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