I’m gonna have to start calling you Hoover 2.” James picked up my pipe (yes, my pipe) and then lit it. It started when I looked in the mirror, and saw my bed-head self. Gay porn was right. I knew today was going to be the day—no matter what. I had researched barbers, and I had picked a barber with care. Not too rustic, not too dressy. He swirled the cape like he was a magician doing a show, and soon I had the cape around my neck. I continued, ”It just seems wrong that a man can’t be a man, especially in a barber shop. You just showed J. And I knew it was what I wanted. If he’s talking, he’s talking shit!”“I ain’t talking shit! We just sat there, smoking and watching the barber finish up the haircut he was working on. The barber turned to the counter behind him and laid down his clippers. Even though I loved the idea of sporting an extreme, I had never done anything about it. He purely hates hair, and I can promise you this, he’ll take ten times more off than you ask for!” He then rubbed the top of his head (God, how I wanted to know how that felt!) and put the cigar back in
