Spit!

Rest in peace, Miky! And my condolences to the Schorem family.

One time I was being cut by Miky. The usual banter was happening, when suddenly he put his hand against my chin as a cup in front of my mouth.

He waited, I waited not knowing what the hell he was doing. Suddenly his head appeared over my shoulder and commanded: “Spit.”. Me: “uh…”, him: “Spit out your gum.”. I did.

He threw it away, promptly yanked my head straight, proudly and sternly said: “I’m a barber. I cut men’s hair. I am not a goat shearer, I don’t cut goats. Especially not chewing goats. Unless.. you want to look like a goat?”.

I walked out that day with the cleanest cut ever.