APRIL 7, 2021 – Yesterday morning I resolved to do something about my pandemic hair. With the advent of spring I wanted to drive with the (tinted) windows down without fear of being ticketed for “distracting other motorists.” It’d been 15 months since I’d had a haircut.
In my 7/11/2019 post, I introduced readers to “my barber Bob.” An artist, PhD in art history, author of several books, connoisseur of classical music, literature, and much else, Bob is several cuts above “way above” average. I’d missed our conversations when—until March 2020—my downtown office was down the street from his shop.
Not wanting to venture there yesterday, however, I Googled, “barbers near me.”
Up popped “Al’s Barber Shop,” a mile from our house. The “highest” reviews were glowing: “Top service,” “First rate!” To cross-check, I clicked on “lowest.” The reviewer’s exact words: “Never ever go here. The barber is racist, sexist, and completely inappropriate . . . dropped the n word a few times. I spoke to other locals and other people have had this experience with him.”
Time to look up Bob’s website to see if he was still in business—downtown, schmowntown. He is. “Most cuts cost 20$ [sic],” said his website. “If you have long hair and need a shampoo and layered cut (or God forbid, color), find a salon—there are thousands of them. This is a barber shop . . . The Trial of the Century starts March 8. Call if you are worried about protests. Shop is closed Friday, March 19th, which is my birthday.”
I called but not because I was worried about protests. Bob seemed genuinely thrilled that I’d resurfaced.
We yakked as in old times, except about new times—The Trial, the pandemic, the world. After 15 minutes of conversation filled with laughter—Bob could be the headliner at a popular comedy club—I remembered why I’d called. Bob put me down for 10:30.
“You’re going to need hedge clippers to cut my hair,” I warned him, “and I see from your website that people with long hair aren’t welcome.”
Bob laughed. “Don’t worry. You aren’t the first older guy with covid hair. Long-haired young people, however, need to know they can’t get a 150-dollar hair-remodeling project for 20 bucks.”
Forty-five minutes later I parked in front of the Grain Exchange Building, across the street from the Federal Courthouse, which is surrounded by an impenetrable, insurmountable barrier. Across another street is the county jail—now harder to approach than to escape; kiddy-corner is the Minneapolis City Hall, surrounded by chain-link barriers and with ground-floor windows boarded up; one block away is . . . The Trial . . . inside “Fortress County Courthouse.”
Parking was one thing. Gaining entry to the Grain Exchange was quite another. The building’s multiple entrances were plastered with paper signage shouting, “NOT AN ENTRANCE.”
Eventually, I found a way around the Maginot line(s) and entered Bob’s shop. We had a great visit, with a haircut thrown into the bargain. I drove home with the windows down.
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© 2021 by Eric Nilsson