Barber Shop
Dear Diary:
I was visiting my mother on Long Island a few years ago when I decided to go to the Ideal Barber Shop near the intersection of Union Turnpike and Little Neck Parkway in Queens.
I had gotten my hair cut there every few weeks when I was a boy. Back then, I had paid in cash, so I instinctively checked my wallet before entering the shop.
Once inside, I saw on the right side of the shop a familiar long row of chairs for waiting customers, a mix of teenage boys wanting the latest buzz cuts and older men wanting the same haircut they have always gotten.
I was happy to see Frank, one of the founders, at chair No. 1, still cutting away with his own full shock of hair slicked back as usual.
“Want a haircut?” he asked, signaling for me to sit in his chair.
“You used to cut my hair as a kid,” I said.
He smiled. We were both looking straight at the large mirror, but I don’t think he recognized me. We chit-chatted about how quickly children grow up, and about his adult sons. Frank said he regretted not having had a daughter.
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