UNFAITHFUL: Am I A Chair Hopping Barber Whore?

I’ve been seeing Johnny (in the picture above) exclusively for over five years now. A mutual friend introduced us and the moment he first laid clippers to my head, I knew he was the one.

Prior to meeting Johnny, I had a string of lackluster barbers.

There was the one that loved to converse more than he loved to cut hair.
The one who was unreliable and never showed up to the shop on time.
And then there was the one who just couldn’t cut hair. Period. I’d get out of his chair with my hairline looking like Anthony Hamilton’s beard.

I’ve got what I like to call an ignorant, unforgiving hairline.

It takes a skilled barber to make me look presentable.

When Johnny passed the test, making my hairline look smart and sharp, I was hooked.

It didn’t matter that his shop was situated in the heart of the Bronx, far, far away from my house. I mean, honestly, who goes to the Bronx for anything ever?

I didn’t care that he didn’t speak a lick of English. It’s better that way. I come in. He smiles. We shake hands. I sit down and say key words like:

Very Low.

Or

Taper.

Or

Trim.

And without any further explanation, he goes right to work on my head. There’s no idol chatter about sports, the weather or my weekend plans. I sit. He cuts. The End.

I often daydream about taking Johnny out of the ghetto. You know, I'm a big movie star with a huge entourage and Johnny travels the world with me on my private jet, keeping my ceasar low and my hairline in check.

A boy can dream, right?

I don't know much about Johnny except that twice a year, he vacations in the Dominican Republic for an entire month.

He always apologizes to me before he leaves and tells me the date he’ll be back. I think he’s under the assumption that I don’t get my haircut while he’s away.

But little does he know, I've got a back up barber Sidepiece.

I don’t know his name (isn’t that always the case?) but he sits across from Johnny. And whenever I come in and Johnny’s not there, we exchange short nonverbal cues that translate to:

Come get in my chair and let me cut your hair while Johnny is gone.

The first time I stepped out on Johnny with Sidepiece, I was nervous.

Would he lay hands on me like Johnny?
Would he tell Johnny I dipped out on him while he was on vacation?
How would I look Johnny in the eye when he came back?

But I threw my uncertainites to the wind and let him cut my hair!

He didn't slay my hairline, but he did other things to me that Johnny never does like:

Use the blowdryer to get the excess hair off my face.
Pat my face down with the antiseptic to keep those unsightly hair bumps to a minimum.

Like any first time expereince with a Sidepiece, it was fun, different and refreshing.

I got out of his chair wishing I could dip out on Johnny more often.

The best part about Sidepiece is that he knows when to fall back. When I came back to get a cut from Johnny, he just smiled and winked while I climbed into Johnny's chair. He knows the rules and stays in his lane!

This past Saturday, I walked in the barbershop and saw Johnny’s empty chair and his workstation free of its usual hair and clutter. No surprise there. He told me he'd be on vacation. But my Sidepiece was gone too!

I had an instant panic attack.

My Sidepiece knew Johnny was going on vacation. Why didn't he tell me he would be gone too? He could have given me a nonverbal cue or slipped me a note when Johnny wasn't looking.

I stood in the middle of the barbershop heartbroken and helpless, wondering who was going to cut my hair. As my eyes quickly darted around the room at all the other barbers who were on duty, I locked eyes with the dude who sits next to Johnny.

"He's on vacation, right?" I asked, pointing to Johnny's chair.

He nodded.

"And what about him? He's on vacation too?" I asked, pointing to my Sidepiece's chair.

He nodded.

"I have two more people up next," he said. "I can give you a cut if you like."

I tilted my head to the side, looked him up and down, nodded and took a seat.

This kid was new to the shop. Maybe the youngest one working there. He was popular amongst the younger clientele. There was always a long wait to get into his chair.

Still, I was nervous. Popularity doesn't mean anything to me. Everything ain't for everybody.

When it was my turn, he motioned for me to get into his chair.

When I sat down, I immediately felt uncomfortable.

Where was my Sidepiece when I needed him?!

"Sit up straight please," he said looking at me in the mirror.

What?! Johnny and Sidepiece never asked me to sit up straight. They always managed to cut my hair while I slouch in the chair and doze off.

I sat up straight and told him what I wanted.

Very low.

He nodded and started to cut my hair.

His touch was gentle and quick. His clippers were smooth and sharp. It was almost as if I wasn't getting my hair cut at all.

Johnny and Sidepiece's clippers weren't this soft, I thought to myself.

He murked my hairline. It was straight and even. And he did it effortlessly.

"How do you want your facial hair?" he asked.

"Huh?"

"Your facial hair. How do you want it?"

Wow. Johnny and Sidepiece never asked me that. They just kind of did what they wanted to do with my facial hair.

"Um. Trim it low?" I asked.

He nodded and reached for some gel and covered my facial hair with it. Then, murked my mustache and chin hair with the blade as well.

When he was done, he used the blow dryer to take off the excess hair, patted my face down with the antiseptic (just like Sidepiece) and took the cape off. I stood up and gazed at myself in the mirror.

I looked great! Better than I usually do.

He handed me my receipt and...

*GASP*

He charges less than Johnny!

The sign in the shop says haircuts cost $14. For years, Johnny has been charging me $16. I chose to ignore it. I do have a tank head and thought he charged me more because it took more effort to get the clippers around my head.

I paid for my cut. Slipped The Kid a hefty $10 tip (more than I've EVER tipped Johnny or Sidepiece) and he looked down at the money, then looked up and smiled:

"So, I'll see you next time?"

"Um. Yeah. Sure." I said as I darted out of the shop.

It's official: I want to dump Johnny and Sidepiece for The New Kid.

He's dope! And cheap!

Keeping it real: The Kid straight turned me out!

You know how when you step out on your main piece, you sex to impress? You know, put in more work with the jumpoff than you would with your main piece?

That's what I felt like had just happened. The Kid knew I was vulnerable and put in his best work to lure me in - and it worked.

But who was I fooling? There's no way I can let him cut my hair the next time!

What about Johnny? What about Sidepiece? What would they think? That would be some foul shit right there.

I've seen dudes wait hours to get a haircut from their regular barber, myself included. Am I ready to break the unspoken code of allegiance?

And besides, what if I was to jump ship and then New Kid decided to up and quit or something? Then what? Who would cut my hair then? I'd have to come crawling back to Johnny and Sidepiece on ashy knees. I'd be the laughing stock of the place. I would lose all my cool points.

But then again, why should I be forced to stick it out with Johnny and Sidepiece, when I've fallen for someone who does better work than they do?

Talk about a quandary.

What would you do?

Would you dump your regular barber or hairstylist for The New Kid? Or stick with what you know, even though the grass sure does look greener on the other side?

When it comes to matters of the hair heart, how do you determine the distinction between settling and being loyal?

I'd love to hear your thoughts.