The soldier and I were in Kansas City, MO this weekend. There is a highway that circles around the city and we were on it.

“I really need a haircut, P.”

“Let’s get you one,” I said not bothering to look at him. He definitely needed a haircut.

“Where should we get my hair cut?”

“I don’t know. It’s not like you care. Why don’t we find a strip mall and you can just run in one of those fast places and get it done. Great Clips, or something like that Can’t be too hard to find one of those,” I said.

“Great Clips? Great Clips? Noooooo. I can’t go one of those clippin’ places. I need to go a barber,” he said. “I want a man’s haircut.”

I laughed. ‘Are you serious?”

“Hell yes I’m serious.”

“Well I don’t know how to find a barber,” I said. “They don’t really make barbers anymore.”

He said there were barbers in his state.

“Yes, but that is the backwoods. I mean I know there is a barber here somewhere but look at this place,” I said waving my arm. “How are we supposed to find one? One barber in this whole city. Maybe two. What’s the problem anyway? You don’t want you head in a shampoo bowl?” I snorted.

“Shampoo what? Shampoo bowl? P, come on. I’m not putting my head in a bowl. I want a barber and nothing but and if I can’t find one I don’t know what I’ll do. If I have to go one of those places… I will probably need to take a shower once I leave. No. I want a man to cut my hair and I want to talk to him about man stuff while he does it. I’m sure we can find one.”

We continued to drive around the city. “Well if you think we can, we’ll try. How do you find a barber anyway? We don’t know this city. They don’t make barbers anymore and they also don’t make phone booths where you can stop and look something up. This is the new days. Sorry!”

“Well all we have to do is find a man. Every man with hair knows where he gets it cut. Any old man, that is. I don’t know what these young ones do. So all we have to do is find one of those and him and we’ll have me a barber. My barber, that is. The man who is going to cut my hair.”

“Get off here then and look for a man?” I asked as we approached an exit.

“Yeah, P. Get off.”

I cut over and exited highway 435 into Kansas City iso of a man.

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