Soon as I stepped out my whip, the heat from the sun wrapped around me, and the smell of food hit right after it mixed with smoke and whatever cologne niggas had on walkin’ past. A couple people looked over when they saw me, and I caught a few nods as I made my way down the strip.
By the time I pushed the door open to the shop, the noise inside hit me at the same time. Clippers was buzzin’, and music played loud through the speakers. Women talked on one side, and niggas joked loud as hell on the other.
The shop was split how it always was, with barbers on one side lined up with chairs full, and the salon side on the other with dryers goin’ and stylists movin’ around like they was runnin’ shit. It wasn’t just a barbershop. It was everything in one.
Soon as I stepped in, one of the niggas I always cracked on looked up and saw me. “Aww shit, look who walked in.”
I smirked, already knowin’ what time it was. “Yep. You niggas finally got some life in this bitch. I heard this shit be dry when I ain’t here.”
A couple niggas laughed, and one of ’em shook his head. “Man, shut the fuck up. You always got somethin’ to say.”
“I be tellin’ the truth,” I shot back, dappin’ him up anyway.
I moved through the shop like I always did, speakin’ to a few people before I spotted Blaqson sittin’ in one of the chairs.
“Look at this nigga,” I said, walkin’ over and dappin’ him up. “You been sittin’ here all day and still ain’t got no cut?”
“I ain’t need one,” he replied, leanin’ back like he ain’t care.
“Yeah a’ight,” I said, sittin’ in my chair while my barber got ready. “Nigga, you just like bein’ seen.”
While I was gettin’ situated, Terry walked past, and her hips moved just enough to pull attention without her even tryin’.
I looked over at her. “Aye, Tee… you still got these niggas stressin’ you out or you finally got some peace?”
She rolled her eyes but smirked anyway. “Boy, shut up.”
“Aye, I’m serious,” I said, pointin’ at her. “That bitch ass nigga ain’t came back in here on no nut shit, right?”
“Nigga, no,” she said, shakin’ her head.
Blaqson laughed. “Nigga, you knocked her baby daddy the fuck out. Why the fuck would he come back in here?”
I nodded. “At least he know what come with playin’ crazy.”
Then I pointed at Terry again, serious this time. “Tell that nigga I’mma kill him next time.”
“Renza, shut up,” she said, walkin’ off, still smilin’.
I leaned back in the chair and let my barber do his thing while I kept talkin’ shit with whoever was close enough to hear me. That was just how it went every time I stepped in here. Niggas expected it.
Halfway through my cut, I glanced across the shop and saw a lil’ boy sittin’ in the chair cryin’ while the barber tried to line him up.
I shook my head. “Aye, lil’ nigga, you gon’ have to tighten up. Ain’t nobody finna respect you cryin’ over a haircut.”
A few people laughed, and the kid sniffed, tryna get himself together.
“Hold still so he can make you look decent,” I added. “You in here actin’ like he cuttin’ yo’ arm off.”
That got a couple more laughs, and the kid finally calmed down enough for the barber to finish.
By the time I got out the chair, my cut was clean, my waves was sittin’ right, and I already felt better than I did when I walked in.
I dapped my barber up, spoke to a few more people, then stepped back outside, the heat hittin’ me as soon as I opened the door.
Soon as I got back in my whip, I grabbed my phone and texted Reni.
You need to be at the crib and dressed by 7. You rollin’ with me tonight.
