"Boy, I'll say."

I went to a new barbershop on Monday. It is a little hole in the wall called Dave's Barbershop and Styling Salon, out on North Monroe in Spokane (Dave doesn't work there anymore, he has since left us.) I initially went to this place because they do shaves as well as the standard hair cut. When I first arrived it felt like I was walking in to Mayberry. Everyone obviously new each other and there I was in a polo, shorts and flip flops. Awkward. But no matter to me, I went to the first person I saw and he said, "what can I do ya for," I knew I was in for a treat.
However, when I realized they would not accept debit, or a check, I had to take a brief detour to a near by Bank of America to grab some cash as to appease these people. I walked back in and sat down in the sea foam green chairs lined up against the single pained window, grabbed the front page of the morning paper and unfurled it with a quick snap of the wrists. Everything around me seemed to go quiet and I looked up to see about half of the employees/patrons with radar lock on me. One of the gentlemen said under his breath (so he thought, he was old), "looks like a job for big Mike." And there he was the man, the myth, the legend, Big Mike. A slender old man no more than 5 foot 9 and about 5 teeth left in his head, just staring at me as he said, "can I help you?" I then noticed about five separate signs that said proudly, "we reserve the right to refuse service to anyone we see fit."I responded with, "woops, I must have been out of it for a second there, I didn't realize you were ready for me." He responded with, "boy, I'll say."
I went on to request a four on the clippers evened out on top with a shave to get rid of my wintery beard. He obliged and went about his work. I was able to relax eventually and hit my stride, I started cracking some jokes and they warmed up to me and the experience was enjoyable for everyone involved. I dint realize just how intense a real barbershop shave was, being that this was my first. The warm towel, the hot lather, the shave soap and the lotion (all of which were repeatedly applied) were awesome. At the end of my 45 minutes of barbershop culture, I thanked the man paid him his money plus a decent tip and a hand shake, and walked out the door. I don't think that they had seen my kind in a while. I laughed to myself as I walked out the back door to the dirt parking lot where I had left my car, just another day in the life of my Spokane adventure.