People legit think I’m my characters. Which I get. I write in first person. It’s intimate. Plus, my narrators are sarcastic and good-looking. It’s hard to distinguish sometimes. For the record, I’m not my characters. In fact, we have very little in common.
There is one fundamental similarity between Cash Braddock and me, though. We both need haircuts every four weeks or we lose our shit.
Now I know a lot of people loved the barbershop scene in Cash Braddock. I know this because my mother loved it and so did my mother-in-law and they are always right. The nice thing about writing fiction is that, on occasion, we get to create an ideal world to rectify the wrongs of this one. The barbershop in Cash Braddock does exactly that. In Cash’s world, barbershops have the perfect balance of masculinity without toxicity. They have barbers who make appointments. They have barbers who can articulate questions. Obviously fiction.
My world is nothing like Cash’s world. And I’m kind of bitter about it.
I’ve gotten plenty of great haircuts from barbers. But they always seem to come with a side of something else (it’s misogyny. That’s the “something else.” I didn’t want you to be disappointed when you realized it wasn’t something fun). The first barber I went to was absolutely floored that I was both female and wanted a straight razor cut. He managed to overcome his shock once he realized that I was a lesbian. He then spent my entire haircut offering me the newest Playboy. I did not want to look at the newest Playboy.
The next barbershop was much better. They pretty solidly didn’t give a fuck that I have two X chromosomes. But then my barber left and his replacement (my new barber, almost) cautioned that blunt sideburns would make me look like a boy, which was kind of weird because I already look like a boy (I don’t look like a boy. I look like a androgynous chick, but if you live in a world where blunt sideburns make someone look like a “boy,” then the distinction of my gender presentation is going to be lost on you).
I then burned through Yelp’s barbershop suggestions pretty quick. A month ago, I found a female barber (not a stylist. The straight razor makes all the difference, friends) and it was a goddamn revelation. But her schedule is impossible and I needed a haircut like last Tuesday. So I found another female barber. The whiskey-drinking, mustache-cultivating vibe of the shop wasn’t really my scene, but I’m tolerant as fuck. The only downside was the receptionist spewing sexist, racist shit while the barbers literally drank whiskey. Straight razors and alcohol seem dangerous. My tolerance only extends so far.
I’ve now arrived at the realization that I need a female barber who works in a hyper masculine barbershop where the men are sober feminists? So, you know, still searching.