An original series by Louisiana-Lady1937
Chapter 9
This would be my first trip to the barbershop located off one of the main floor hallways in the building I called my office home. Satch, the shoeshine man was standing in his usual place just outside the one-chair barbershop door, his nickname namesake right at his foot. It was rumored the expensive satchel that looked like a visiting doctors bag went wherever Satch went. Another rumor he ran the numbers out of that satchel. I had no knowledge of the location of the places Satch might have picked up the betting slips and the money, or the location of the numbers bank; since the whole operation was illegal I decided for the time being I would not take in personal interest in that rumor.
The Barber was brushing off the jacket of a nearly balding middle-aged man as I entered the barbershop. The man reached in his pocket, pulled out a large amount of folded money, pulled off one, and presented it to the barber as part of a handshake. He pulled off another bill, turned to the door, called “Satch” softly and the tall lanky black man sauntered in, satchel in hand. Another exchange of money took place, along with murmured words I could not hear, and since the men positioned their bodies so their back was both to the door and to myself I did not actually see the transaction take place. Disappointment from unfulfilled curiosity came and went quickly as Felipe with a big smile, a slight bow and an outreached hand motioned me towards the chair.
This was my first haircut in this shop. I had caught quick glimpses of various stages of his efforts during my passing back and forth down the north hall of the building. The man took care of the hair of some of the most powerful men in the city, and I heard he made a personal call to the office of one of the top executives of the large established company owning and occupying most of the building to cut that gentlemen’s hair.
Felipe had a French accent, with the nasal aspect modified by living some years in an Italian community called Greenbush, or referred to as the ‘Bush’ in Wisconsin. Steve the painter provided the Wisconsin information. Felipe’s choice of words reflected a lack of education quickly forgotten as he delivered words in a smooth and modulated voice such as a French lover might do when addressing a woman he was pursuing. He wore a barber coat, which partially covered fine light grey pinstriped trousers and shoes polished to a high gloss. Felipe stood about 5 foot nine inches had a thick hair of naturally wavy hair well into the process of turning silver in color. Brown eyes topped a sharp nose, and thin lips. He obviously took care of his skin and looking at it made me want to start paying more attention to my own skin and hair.
Always fascinated by the tools of any trade I sat silently as he performed the initial setup for what would turn out to be the best shave and haircut I every experienced. I watched as Felipe opened one of the drawers revealing a half dozen or so fine straight razors in a lined wooden glass covered tray. He removed one of the razors and carefully placed it in a holder, retrieved a shaving brush from another drawer and placed it in same holder. I noticed an expensive looking razor strop when I came in and commented, “Fine looking razor strop you have there.” The nickel-plated swiveling loop at the wall end and padded leather handle at the other held an expensive looking piece of leather, about 2 feet long and two inches wide. He grasped the strop handle, turned it over to display a line side. “Yes, this is a fine piece of Russian leather on one side and linen embedded with a fine abrasive on the other, and the strop was made in Germany. He took a pewter shaving shuttle, added some hot water to the bottom section, and placed a bar of shaving soap in the perforated container in the top.
Felipe draped a very large clean cover over the chair and my upper body, fastened it at the back, and inserted a soft neck wrap between the drape and my neck. Felipe applied pre-shave oil and then a hot moist towel around my face. As he lowered the barber chair, the bottom came up placing me in a full reclining position, then raising the level of the chair to the right height for shaving me. As I sat in the darkness the towel created he said, “Same cut or something new for you hair?” Thus far, every thing I saw and experienced came with ‘first rate’ stamped all over it. This was a man who obviously was an expert in his business and I decided to let him display his skills his way.
He took those two minutes I enjoyed under the towel to place a bottle of aftershave balm on the counter and a tray of hair cutting tools. Then a fine process continued with him dipping the brush in the hot water of the shuttle, and then gently rubbing it across the soap in the top container. A gently application of the brush to my face and his deft artistry with a straight razor began and ended without a scrape or nick. Wiping my now cleaning shaven face he applied an unscented after-shave balm, gently patted my face with a soft towel, and returned the chair to an upright position. I suddenly had the feeling I had just awoken from a good nights sleep.
As the hair cutting process finished I looked into the mirror and noticed my thick head of hair transformed from my usual casual cut to a precise ‘business executive’ cut. At that point I was so impressed I felt I might be duty bound to live up to the image of my hair. I did not have visible nose or ear hair to cut, and never even thought about a mustache or beard. I did look fit and fine from the neck up.
The shaving – haircutting ceremony finished I thanked Felipe, paid and tipped him and knew I was totally ‘hooked’ on the process I experienced. I started to leave, then turned back to Felipe and said, “I would like to schedule regular appointments for shaves and haircuts.” We set up a regular time and I knew that my efforts to shave between haircuts would be a sad effort until time for a real shave.
As I left the barbershop, I noticed Satch following one of the many fine looking women who worked and visited in this building Both Felipe and Satch had a reputation as a ‘lady’s man’. It was rumored Felipe once cut the hair of a women lawyer; that is until the day when he was doing his wonderful shoulder massage and his hands wandered down over her ample breasts. She decided not to make a legal issue out of the wanderings; he decided no woman would ever set in one of his chairs again.
I decided to take the stairs up to my office, a few steps from the barbershop, behind a solid door and for some reason unmarked. This stairwell also led to the three sub-levels beneath the building and I could hear giggling coming from a lower level. Curiosity got the best of me and as I leaned over the banister and looked down an older man and women stood embraced. As they looked up at me looking down at them both showed an alarmed look that broadcast a meeting of sorts that was not between ‘old married folks’. A little sad I had interjected myself into this scene; I quickly removed myself visually and made my way up the stairs at a quick pace. I needed to spend some time thinking about the letter from MacGuffin still lodged in the inside pocket of my suit coat.
louisiana-lady1937 