Black History Month: Dwayne Warned Me

I call these posts Black History Month because I’m Black, and these stories are my history
“Dawg, you sure?”
“Yeah, let’s do it”
“I don’t know about this. But it’s your life”

I should have heeded the warning. Dwayne was only looking out for me. I’d known him for about 10 years, and in that time we became a little more than associates, a little less than friends. We would hang out every now and then, but it’s not like I would go to him for advice. I was hard headed, so I didn’t listen.

I sat in the chair, the buzzing resonating in my ears. Loud, rowdy conversations permeated the small room. I think one or two of the other patrons were drunk. I was taking a big step, but I was confident that it work out for me. I’ve never been the type to have regrets anyway. I flinched as the buzzing came closer, then bit into my skin. It stung for a hot second, but then it subsided and I sat there stone jawed as the artist went to work. I watched whatever trashy TV show that shop had on. I noticed that this was taking forever!! I wanted it to be over. I wanted to get out of that chair. But mostly I wanted to see what it looked like. I was conveniently shielded from the mirrors that hung on the wall of the shop. All I could see were pictures of the artist’s handy work on the wall, and the aforementioned TV. The incessant buzzing was getting to me, but I knew better than to ask when it was going to be over. I wanted his best work, not a rush job.
After about 45 minutes, it was over. He put the finishing touches on and then handed me a mirror to check it out. He put some rubbing alcohol on a cotton swab and cleaned the edges. I must have looked a little disappointed so he spoke.

“It’ll get darker, it’s just brand new.”

I stared at myself for a minute trying to decide if I liked it. I saw the contrast of the colors on my skin. I decided I didn’t like it, but I couldn’t say anything at the time. Everyone else had them, but it wasn’t for me. I should have listened to Dwayne, but now it was too late. I definitely would not be getting another one of these. I paid the man, and was on my way out the shop.

My first and last baldy. What, did you think I was talking about a tattoo? LOL My barber Dwayne was right. I should have listened. I had to deal with my pale white scalp for a few days until my hair grew back in.