One thing that’s always been true about R-boy is this: It might take him a while to decide what he wants (there’s no might about it – I’ve grown old in the Target aisles waiting for him to spend a $25 gift card), but once he knows, he knows.
Don’t bother with the questions. He knows.
So when, after several weeks of pondering, he announced on Saturday morning that he had decided what he wanted to do with his hair, had found the barber shop that would do it, and wanted me to drive him there, I should have known better than to ask: Are you sure? Is this a barber shop? Or a stylist? Do they do more than buzz cuts? Can they handle that style? Can your hair type handle that style? Do you realize you’ll have to use product to make that look work? Are you willing to? Do you know how to? Do they have room for you today?
Yes, Mom. Yes. No. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes! Stop! Let’s go.
Finally, when I got behind the wheel and he gave me the address, I understood that all would be well. We were headed to the very heart of hipsterville. He would definitely be in good hair-styling hands.
And I was right.
Or, I should say. R-boy was right. As usual.
Check out The Barber Sharp in Northeast Minneapolis.
This place was so hipster that all of-age guests were offered the obvious beverage of choice.
I wasn’t allowed to direct, watch, come near, or comment upon the proceedings.
And I was barely allowed to rave. But I’m doing that anyway.
P.S. R-boy, happy half birthday! 15.5 and counting…