talk of the town
MJE decided she was not going to be at the mercy of her failing hair follicles during this chemo bidness. She was going to do what any right minded woman would do, find the absolute best professional to serve her purposes, that being having her head shaved and move on it. And who better to take on that task than a black barber?
Next was to find the proper venue. The OB&C had wandered into Talk of the Town Barber/Salon in Hardeeville SC one time thinking it was just a regular old middle aged white guy’s joint. His first tip off that this was not Mr. Cleever’s barber shop was the 150lb pit bull stationed at the door. However, he was afraid to back out of the door for fear the pit bull might not take rejection well and proceeded to get his hair cut without incident.
So, I says to myself says I, if it’s been pre-qualified by the OB&C then TOTT it is! Next task was to find a game crew to act as cheerleaders and documentarians. I rounded up a stellar team of pals plus Bandoliera-Saturnalia and a bottle of bubbly and off we went. When we opened the door into TOTT it was like stepping into another dimension of time and space of which I was not aware. Or, more aptly like the bar scene in the original Star Wars. A totally strange environment populated by alien beings. I have every reason to believe that the indigenous folk of TOTT felt exactly the same way about us.
Nevertheless, I was on a mission. I asked for “Edward” the proprietor to whom I had spoken twice to ask if 2pm might be a convenient time for me to drop by. A man of very few words, I got the impression that his answer had been “whatever.” TOTT is a place where time is immaterial. Edward was trimming some gentleman’s beard one whisker one at a time so we all sat down on the black vinyl banquette like crows on a wire and waited. When he finally finished, another guy walked in and sat down. When Edward was finished with him one of his employees, an extremely imposing and pugnacious looking amazon, glowered at us and sat her fanny down, as if to say “take that you white bitches, this is my hood.” TOTT is an excellent environment in which to learn patience and humility. Those Buddhist monks ought to head over there sometime.
Finally Edward gave me the high sign and I settled into his chair. I said I’d like the full monty with a few brief forays enroute. Maybe try a wave maker, a polished fade, or maybe a faux-hawk until I ended up with something between a modified buzz and a flat out clean shave. Not a problem said Edward. Each cut got a panel review and some snaps for posterity. In the end I got just what I wanted, with a little something extra because an artist like Edward cannot leave a canvas blank. I have an M worthy of an illuminated manuscript trimmed into the right side of my fuzzy cranium, which by the way feels just like my sweet Bellita’s muzzle.