Roma fell in a morning

So this is haircut day. 

I walked the 25 minutes or so to the Beaches and am about to head into the barber shop and I see there are two customers waiting, with one in the chair in the early stages of a shave. I continue my stroll and do a bit of shopping. 

About 15 minutes later I check in again. The line is longer. Three guys waiting, one in the chair, just getting going. Old Mr. Roma is not blazingly fast with the clippers, comb and scissors, so I decide to head home. 

But I still want a haircut. 

So I stop at barber shop at Woodbine and Queen. 

It was without customers, but not without business as the unswept hair attests to.

I parked in the chair and the barber went to work. He was a lot younger than Mr. Roma, although about the same height, 5'6 or so and quite chatty. He started his career working for his dad at a shop on Parliament. They worked seven days a week. His father still cuts on Mondays, traditionally a day off in the hair trade. As he was chatting, he went to work with a set of clippers, mowing down the sides and the neckline. He pulled out a different set for the top of my head, trimming with the help of a comb. He gave my head a bit of shape, rather than buzzing down too closely. He also said I was going bald the right way. I breathed a sigh of relief at that news.

He said in his business you know the guys in your neighbourhood; who cuts slow, who cuts fast, who's been around longest. Whenever someone retires, he finds out, because he gets customers. 

As he wrapped up his clipping he asked if I wanted a straight razor on my neckline. No problem with that. He said he used a fresh blade on every cut and made a point of showing me his technique for loading up the straight razor with a new blade. His hand was steady and the line was straight. 

I'm accustomed to being in the chair for about half-an-hour for my haircut at Mr. Roma's. He is a deliberate craftsman. Plus, he gives you that massage at the end. No massage this morning, but I did get one of the things that a barber cut should offer you: speed. It took 15 minutes for my new barber, Chris is his name, he gave me his card, to clean me up.

Clearly Mr. Roma isn't hurting for business, so my decision to switch to a shop that's about 10 minutes closer to home and twice as fast in the chair is entirely pragmatic. I would also add that my new guy actually did a better job on my head, which made the $14 haircut worth every penny (it was two bucks more than a Roma job). And he could talk sports, which strikes me a right of all men who choose to go to a barber shop. 

So no guilt in this corner. When it's time for the next trim, Chris will get the call.