Going to the Barber Today

Today I went to the Barber. My barber is Eric and he is 22 and a townie and has a lot of tattoos. Eric gives me a Parliament Light and as we smoke we greet the other townies in front of the barber shop, including fat Felix who runs the Italian bakery across the street and the 14-year-old, 27-looking girl behind the counter. Eric says to look at the way she looks at him; it's illegal. Then we go inside and Eric gets to work. My hair falls to the floor in dry curls and wet little bundles. Eric says, "This haircut is going to get you laid, one way or another." He gets a $3 tip for being cool, and I leave smelling like aftershave.