The Barbershop

Every other Sunday morning, my brother and I get up at 10:30 (which we consider early for a Sunday morning) and head to our barbershop, just the way we have been doing for a great portion of our lives.  Located in the heart of Flushing, it attracts a very diverse group of customers. When we get there, we wait, often hours at a time, to get our haircut.  However, we don’t mind the wait one bit.  During this time we catch up with fellow friends who are also waiting to get their haircuts, and with our barber, who has become a friend first and barber second.

Whether it is a conversation about politics, the economy, community projects, or sports, the barbershop is a hot spot for conversation.  The TV at the shop is always on, either on CNN or ESPN; in a way it facilitates all the conversations that take place at the shop. Since it is football season, for the past few months, most, if not all of our conversations are about football.  “Jets are the best team in the league,” my barber will often say, in his thick, hard to understand Russian accent.  I remember when I first walked into the very same barbershop; I hadn’t understood a word he said.  However now, eight years later, I understand him as if he has no accent at all.  For me, my barbershop isn’t just the place where I get my haircut.  It is a place where I meet my friends from the community, and where we discuss everything and anything that deserves discussion.