When I want my sideburns fixed and a nice shave with a razor, I go to an African-American barbershop. While there are many erstatz barbershops springing up all around the suburbs and even in the malls, the most authentic ones are still located deep inside the inner city or in the historically black neighborhoods. Thanks to the structural inequality of American cities, many of these neighborhoods are run-down and rife with criminal activity. In order to assure that the pristine and always-pious people in the affluent neighborhoods aren’t troubled by the lowly degenerates of the inner city, the ghetto is always filled with a bevy of burly police officers cruising around in their Impalas. I do my best to slow down every time a cruiser drives by and absolutely never make eye-contact with the officers. Sneakily, I duck into a barbershop and sit down on the styling chair.
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Barbershop Barack