My Meeting with The Master

(by Stacie)

It was a  steamy Saturday morning in Atlanta.
My husband had been out of town for more than a week.
I think I was going off the deep end, pretending like everything was fine.

Both kids desperately needed a hair cut.
It was also an activity, something to do, that made me feel like I was  doing my part to keep my kids looking somewhat civilized.
 Although, Emma was wearing a snow white dress with a huge rip in the butt, and Jaxson's diaper was duct taped (purple), and there was a huge dirt stain on the butt of his plaid shorts.

I looked into the window of Great Clips and the line was too too long.
Getting a  hair cut at the end of a half an hour line  is no bribe for a 2 year old and a 4 year old.

Then I saw a sandwich sign on the sidewalk to my right:
"Faith Barbershop"

Why not? I thought, let's go in there, how different can it really be?

I'm almost sure we were the first white customers they had ever had.
The '20 somethings' waiting in the front seats, all looked at us like we were purple smurfs.
Maybe they thought we were white martians visiting their barber shop.
After all, they were regulars.
I didn't care.
"how can I help you darlin?" the friendly barber said. "I'm L.J."
 Three black guys turned their heads and looked at us like , are you sure you know you're in a barber shop white lady? 

"They need a cut, both of em'" I replied.

He started with Emma, it took him about 15 minutes just to comb it out and sprayed it with water.
First  lesson, combing, not brushing. (I didn't think of that) No brush? No, there were no brushes.
It really wasn't that snarled. I swear.
I don't know what he was doing.
He bragged  to me, " I been cutting white hair for 20 years, a lot of black people don't know what they're doin', but I do."
First RED FLAG.
Bragging = Bullshit.

He was nice though, and who can screw up a kid's haircut?
More will be revealed.

Emma did fine for a little while, but then she started to get antsy, and  a little scared of what was happening to her hair. I think it was the combing.
I assured her it wouldn't be much longer.
Then, the tears started. She looked at me with that  desperate glimmer in her eye, Save me mommy, save me.
I didn't really want to make a big deal, so I assured her again, it wouldn't be long.
She was not assured, she cried more. (pretty normal for Emma.)

L.J. called me over and whispered to me, "your daughter, she's special, she feel the devil in that guy over there, so she's crying."
He was very sure his intuition about Emma was strong and right.
The man in the chair across from her did look a little different.
He had long jerry curls and a gold front tooth and he was tapping his feet to the beat of the music.
He had a very mean look to his eyes, like he had hate inside that he wanted to share with anyone who'd make eye contact.
I felt it, but I think Emma was just upset about the hair cut.
I was waiting for Emma to ask me out loud about his gold tooth but she didn't.
That would've really topped it off.

I was sure her tears were of  impatience and fear of L.J's comb, not the devil with the gold tooth.

I just made him think he was an intuitive genius.
"yes, she is special." I responded.
"I can't stand that guy." L.J. Said. "And she felt it, she felt it too."
I'm thinking to myself, really? It has NOTHING to do with the hour long
comb out, I mean "hair cut" you just gave her.
It's that guy, with the shitty attitude's fault.


Almost an hour later, her hair was cut. It looked exactly the same. what haircut?
Okay, the bangs were a little shorter, and it was combed like it had never been combed before.

Now it was Jaxson's turn.
He had already been waiting for his sister, so you can imagine his mood.
I eyed the place for a lollipop, anything to stick in his mouth.

I asked around, "Does anyone have a lollipop?"
The Devil with the gold tooth  looked at me and grunted,"No."

But then a nice lady at another barber chair pulled a stale one out of her drawer.
"Thank you!" I said with enthusiasm, like she was giving me gold.
It was yellow and flat, and stuck to the wrapper, it was so stale.

Jaxson sat in the chair and looked at me with that look- "What the fuck is happening mom???!"
I gave him the lollipop and he mellowed out.
Then, of course Emma started whining about how she
wanted one too. If she weren't a 4 year old, I could have said, "you don't want one, they're stale!"

Jaxson cried a little, sucked his lollipop, cried a little more, and  never took his eyes off L.J.'s scissors.

Okay,  less than ten minutes later, his hair was cut.
Kind of like how when you  chop celery and there are all those little wiry stray green things on each piece.  It was chopped,  and uneven.
Kind of like a bowl cut with layers.
Oh well, he's only two.

Just like my mother used to say to me when I'd be in a pool of tears over a bad  hair cut.
"It'll grow back."
Yeah, no shit sherlock.

L.J graciously told me to come back anytime.
"Sure, " I smiled, literally lying through my teeth.

Then, for the best part, he gave me his card.
It said L.J. Master Cosmetologist.