NEIGHBORHOOD HAIR SHOP

At the beginning of winter, I decided to grow my hair out so that I could get cornrows again. Of course to do this I needed to pay a visit to the old neighborhood hair shop. I used to make frequent trips there to get my sisters’ “horse hair” as I called it, for their braids. I do not know if it was really horsehair, it just looked like their tails to me as a kid. When you walk into this place you would swear it should be called African America Hair Loss because the first thing you see is wigs lining the entire wall. I always asked myself how many styles could they possibly have, it seemed never ending. Of course, my sister hand a handful of these wigs herself. Once I got past the smell of the place, all the hairsprays, perfumes, and I do not know what else, I was actually ok. I liked the people that worked there. Really characters, the kind you know you can only find in your neck of the woods. I will never forget the first time I went into the store after I had cut my braids off for the first time. The lady at the counter, one of the co-owners, starts talking to me and telling me I should be an actor, that I should be the next Denzel Washington, and that I looked like him. I must admit my head is still pretty big from that.