Smooth Like What?

So I really want a haircut. Nearby is a barbershop. Harmless enough. I enter said barbershop. Great. Sit in a chair. Awesome. Then, after several minutes, I start to notice details. For example, every barber in there looks 16. A bad sign, I'm at a barbershop school and these guys obviously don't know what they are doing. But my barber seems nice enough, and hey! Five dollar haircut. Frugality often overrides reason in my book, and today seems like adventure day.

I DO THIS KIND OF THINKING A LOT: I've never done this. Could be fun.

MY WIFE DOES THIS: I've never done this. There's a reason.

He drapes me, cleans some instrument or other, and I notice that everyone around me, seems, well, ethnic. That's cool with me, thinks I, I'm ethnic myself (don't laugh). I'm just hangin' with my homies at the barbershop. Some other barber dude gives me a look while he blows kisses to his hot latina girlfriend. She is too busy looking in the mirror, but that doesn't seem to effect his ego. He does some kind of pucker thing with his lips and struts his sagging low riders out of view.

My boy-man barber then points me to a chart (see above), and I further realize I'm in a place that caters only to black hairstyles. If you put on your thinking cap, you might think that this would be the appropriate time to back out. But you're wrong, sparky! Adventure time has called. I pick hairstyle number, well, you wanna guess what I went for?

Actually, I tell him to surprise me, cause I'm smooth like that. And today, I'm doing something I've never done.