The Badger and Boar

Three stars out of fear for my life. Well not exactly. But when a barber puts blade to vein, he briefly controls whether you live or die on this Earth. And when you feel even a touch of that, it’s time to work out those feelings in a very public, and potentially scathing, way.
I’m not saying that anyone who has cut my hair lately is capable of murder. Even if I did believe it, I wouldn’t say it, since this shop is mere prances from my home and the proprietor will likely recognize me in this review. Unilocaling is dangerous business sometimes. I don’t want to hide and I don’t really want to own up to these reviews that no one should ever take too seriously. But listen up, I’ve got a story to tell.
I am very pleased with my standing hair care arrangement. The guy who tends to my locks is a real mensch and someone whom I consider a friend. He’s had to take some time off for personal reasons; like any halfway decent human being, I was more concerned with his well-​being than my own near-​term hair needs. However, I saw nothing to be gained by being a martyr to the cause – he probably wouldn’t want me walking around ratty in his honor – so I endeavored to find somewhere else to fill the gap.
Around this time, a mysterious business card showed up in my mailbox. It offered me a deep discount at a business whose exact function was left opaque but because I love anything that’s 40% off (well, except for meat), I fired up my nearest Google machine and got to the bottom of things: This was a barbershop. The neoclassical kind with shaves and possibly spirits. I always like a good shave because I like to be shown that people can do things about me to me better than I can do them to myself, which is obviously an allusion to the impossible paradox of masturbation and solitude. So I made a phone call, secured an appointment, and after a highly tense phone call with my father concerning my impending divorce, I arrived, assuming that things would go uneventfully.
We can skip the haircut part, since it went down just fine. I’m also not about to harp on about how I found the owner’s demeanor since … well, let’s just say that one of my favorite restaurants in a nearby Pacific Northwest city has this one waiter whose peculiar brand of simpering condescension sets my teeth on edge except he does his job just fine and one broken egg doesn’t kill the chicken because the egg is outside of the chicken, which is kind of a cool way to keep from getting too attached to one’s offspring in the cruel, cold arena of nature where anything could get got at any time. I would never negatively review that place because personality should be permanently off-​limits in Unilocal reviews unless it affects performance or mars the vibe.
Whatever, while chemistry is an important part of the cutter-​cutee interaction, a test-​run or one-​off doesn’t necessary aspire to – much less achieve – this level of synergy. And again, I was very pleased with how my hair turned out: Good, logical shape, maybe not totally acquainted with the tiniest details of my skull-​frame but how could I really expect him to be? I try not to be spoiled and with familiarity comes knowledge, which is probably why people also say that familiarity breeds contempt. Knowledge is power and power corrupts. So keeping your enemies close is a self-​fulfilling prophecy.
Here’s where the rubber hits the road and this review gets to the point: The shave was a total debacle. I’ve had several professional shaves in my life and once or twice it’s been better than I am at it and then other times I’m like WTF did I pay you for that for (for)?
This one was actively unpleasant. He started electric, then spent so long with the blade that I felt the tension mounting and for a split second felt entirely vulnerable and realized that it could all end if he were so inclined. I DID NOT BELIEVE HE WAS. But it says something about my state of mind that my thoughts were drifting to such dark and dissonant places. I was not enjoying myself, things were taking longer than they should, and when I took the initiative to pop out part of my chin with my tongue (a trick someone at Freemans Social Club taught me during a favorable shave-​perience!), dude actually said «thanks for the help,» as if he’d known all along that was necessary but just didn’t bother to ask. He was getting frustrated, or testy, or something, and maybe my distaste for what was happening was written all over my face because I’m bad at hiding things. But then he gave up, said he was going to «cheat» and finished up with an electric razor. It was like he was admitting defeat and didn’t give a fuck what I thought. So I don’t give a fuck about publishing this. If he was so easily thrown off by an abnormal facial structure on a surly customer then he doesn’t want my return business.
If I give too few fucks about what I say here, so be it. When the blade’s in my face, when everything is on the line, this Unilocal game is all I’ve got.

I’ve been going to the Badger and Boar (and it’s founder) for several years now. I get a consistently great haircut (and lots of compliments) and always have a pleasant experience. Good conversation, quick, friendly, comfortable, etc. I recommend this place.