Post by J-Hop on Jan 4, 2013 18:59:43 GMT -4
SHAPING UP
“Barbershop Talks”
“Barbershop Talks”
“Well looka’ here, if it ain’t “Mr. Clutch” himself…Sit on down, boy, what can I do for you?”
It was the first thing Mr. Charles said as I stepped through the doors of the long-time barber shops in Brooklyn, “The Cut”. It was full of hanging plaques on the walls for it’s achievements and autographs of some of the latest and greatest personalities to come through the door. From being a regular that had come here since the prime age of ten years old to now, living the ‘superstar’ life that I was blessed with. With one day hoping my mug’ would be up on that wall amongst those celebrities.
“The usual I guess, just trimming the edges.” I said as I got the empty seat.
Most in there were over the age of fifty, only one that was in his late twenties or early thirties, laughing among the rest of the crew.
“You sure that’s all you want? You don’t want these ‘plats’ cut off?” Mr. Charles asked, in a jokingly matter as he gave a chuckle at the end.
“Yeah, that’s all Mr. Charles. Appreciate it!” I said as I reached into my pocket, pulling out my wallet.
The shape-up trim was usually 9 dollars and something. I pulled out a twenty and gave it to him.
“Okay, I’ll get you your change back!” Mr. Charles said as I stop him on that action.
“Keep it, man. Add to the supplies you have to buy or whatsoever.” I said, looking up at him as he nodded.
“You were always a kind-hearted boy. I appreciate it.” He said sticking it in his side pocket.
“Oh he ain’t gonna buy any materials. He’s gonna spend it on some cheap booze tonight!” One of the guys busted out as everyone followed in laughs, including Mr. Charles.
I guessed it was only right I join in as well on the laughter.
“Well however he spends it, fine with me.” I said as the laughter calmed down.
“So tell me ‘Mr. Big Stuff’, how’s things been on the road. I see you got some scars going on. They’ve been rough on you, huh?” Mr. Charles asked as he was about to start trimming, cleaning up the hairline.
“Nah, all is good. It’s been a rough few months schedule-wise but I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. The time, the experience, the levels of learning all there is to learn, the scars, they’re just the trophies I earned, letting me know how far I’ve traveled.”
“Preach on, brotha!” One of the men, waiting their turn, he nodded his head as he knew what I was talking about, in general.
“I’ve got friends, I’ve made enemies. It’s not quite even in those two departments. I got a family, but I got an army of villains looking to take the ‘goodness’ I built up and rip it to shit. But it is 2013, I’ve made it passed the Mayan’s calendar. The bullcrap is over.”
“Amen!” Mr. Charles shouted out, as if he was having a moment in church or something.
“I’m so glad those little Mayan’s theory was wrong. I got tired of seeing it on the news being celebrated as a good day. Even my damn neighbors kept asking me about it. Got sick and tired of that shit.” Mr. Charles said, shaking his head.
“Yeah, they kept telling me to do whatever there is that I wanted to do. YOLO. What the hell is a YOLO, an evolution of a Yo-Yo?” Another one of the guys who were sitting there, waiting, laughed as everyone laughed too, shaking their heads. He looked serious though on that question.
“Well sir, YOLO, is the abbreviated form of ‘You Only Live Once’. Basically, do what you want like it’s your last time. You only get to live once.” I said, explaining it to the slight-elderly guy.
“So if I’m a diabetic, I can just go home and rogue the sugar department. When my wife catches me, I can just tell her ‘YOLO!’ and move on?” He asked.
I just shook my head.
“Yeah, if you want to kill yourself on sweets but I advise from doing such maneuver. Do something that you always wanted to do, even as a child that you never got to do. Feel me?”
He nodded his head. “Gotcha!”
“Anyone already destroyed their ‘New Year’s Resolution’?” Mr. Charles asked as there was a clutter of muttering voices.
“Not quite yet but probably sooner rather than later!” The other old guy sitting at the corner near the door entrance said, smiling.
“What was yours young man?” Charles said, asking me.
“Well for one, I’d like to have a better year then last year. My performance was well but I wouldn’t grade it above a C-plus. I’m hard on myself because I feel that I have a chance to reign over top of all the names in that company. Cocky it may sound, but I can wish and dream, right? One step at a time, put work in, get serious and just take care of business. I’m happy.”
I held a satisfied smile on my face, hoping I could make that resolution come true in some way, even as Tag Champs, make the best out of this opportunity, this moment.
“Deep. Hey, what happened to that finnnneeeee lookin’ girl you was with? Haven’t heard her out of your mouth.”
A sigh came across my face, erasing that satisfied look on my face.
“We kinda’ “spaced out”. She was supportive in what I did but it got to a point where she couldn’t handle it. It all happened when I was laid up in a hospital after fighting some bastard in a parking lot brawl. I was in previously thanks to a spill off a ladder.”
The faces of the men in the room cringed a bit.
“Damn boy, what the hell were you doing? Trying to put in a casting tape for “JackAss”? White people do that stupid shit. Not us black folks.” Mr. Charles said as he shook his head.
“No, but I was trying to win a championship.”
“Man, what happened to the good ole’ days, just being in a ring, fighting one on one, putting in the work to out-muscle your opponent. There weren’t such things as parking lot brawls or ladder matches back in the day. Just our bare knuckles and grappling.”
I nodded as I appreciate the golden days of what used to be. However things have progressed and changed.
“Agreed but this day and age, people want more excitement. Obviously attempting to kill yourself and others sometimes brings a smile across people’s faces for what they spend to attend these shows.”
“I just wish I could get my next opponent alone, one on one.” I said, slowly shaking my head.
“Who’s that?” Mr. Charles asked.
“An evil bastard, that’s who. Michael Callahan.”
One of the guys eyes lit up as his hand was raised, trying to get in a word.
“I remember that name. I think he was running for President in that past election. Something wasn’t right about him.” The elderly guy near the entrance door spoke as he was awake.
“He’s the worst case of trouble. Attacked my friend merciless. Someone I consider a brother, he tried to end him. He has this ‘flashback-happy’ militant with him, no one knows who he is really. He has one of those notable illness from his duty, I guess. The bastard is just crazy.”
“Seems like you need a set of brass knuckles with you.” Mr. Charles said, advising me of bringing some balance to the battle.
I downed my head.
“I could easily do that and just knock his damn lights out but that would take away all of this anger I have. I want to use that against him, pummel his face and mush his big ass nose in a bit.”
Mr. Charles went around the corners carefully, making sure to stay along the edges of the sides and neck as he twirled the chair around to his liking.
“Well kid, good luck on that adventure. Seems like you have your work cut out for you.”
“I’ll be just fine, Mr. Charles.” I said, nodding my head.
Mr. Charles spun me around once more to make sure all was ‘lined up’ even and not crooked. In all his years of owning this business, he has been on point with all of his customers. Even those that screwed him over in giving out ‘free’ haircuts. He’s come a long way.
“Well that’s it ‘young buck’!” He said, shaking the towel off, that was around my neck.
“Thanks again!” I said, giving him a fatherly hug.
“Anytime!”
Dapping the fists of the fellow men that sat in line, I made my way towards the exit as I felt ‘renewed’. 2013, new feel, new goals and along with it, a new positive attitude amongst whatever comes my way.
-- R.E.A.D.Y.4.W.A.R.P.A.R.T.D.U.E.X --
Let's have a toast for the douchebags,
Let's have a toast for the assholes,
Let's have a toast for the scumbags,
Every one of them that I know
Let's have a toast to the jerkoffs
That'll never take work off
Baby, I got a plan
Run away fast as you can
- - - - - - -
“You gonna’ die, bitch!”
Laughter exhales from Jair as he stands outside of his apartment door, with the door number reading 216. Dressed down in army fatigues as he has the hood over his head, he stares into his iPhone, a maniacal ‘Joker’-like smile.
“All you’ve done, all you’ve gotten away with. Jair is going to get you. For I may not have gotten to you successfully on the first attempt, it will this go-round. Sure Aubrey J Parker can slam me and my partner for not getting a victory against you and your maniac friend there, unlike they did but I’m sure, right now, Aubrey can’t even find her fucking self at the moment. That’s the honest truth.”
“THEY DOUBTED US FROM THE START…”
Jair smiles again.
“They found out what we truly were about @ Christmas Chaos. They don’t have a reply towards their loss. We respect them, we respect Deruty and Speede. We respect the hustle and fight that got them to the party. They just couldn’t wrap the deal up at the end. They fell ‘flat’ on their faces. At least my man Anthony got to enjoy that before entering a different mindset to which he had to go up against Callahan. Having to watch that shit backstage, the hate for Callahan grew even deeper. He’s just like the damn ‘pigs’ who rule the streets in their ‘bubble top’ Crown Victoria’s on a daily basis.”
“You may have been declared the victor from the referee point, but from mines, you didn’t win at all. Bailey never tapped. He dug into that canvas deep until he faded. He never tapped. He never quit. With all that you’ve done to Bailey within the past weeks, and yet you still can’t get a clean, legit victory, you know you ain’t shit. You’re a shitty politician and you’re a piece of shit in the wrestling ring. Yet, I don’t understand how people can ‘love’ you. I guess they’re pieces of shit too.”
Hopkins shook his head before letting out a small sigh to which he continued.
“You can’t even fight me, mano e’ mano. You have to bring your retarded, ill-minded friend out to have your back, in case things grow ‘tough’ You can say he’s there just for the view, but I know you’re intending to make this a handicap-styled fight. I know your intentions, Mikey. You can’t fool me. I may be young as hell, but I ain’t dumb.”
“You’ve had your fun, you’ve bashed people in the faces, flicked cigarette butts, and just took it all in as ‘highlights of Callahan’s 2012’. This is 2013 and like every other person on this planet, around this time of year there are resolutions we look to make. Weight loss, higher goals, certain milestones, but for me, it’s to simply be better overall. I’ve slacked and I know it. What happened at Christmas Chaos within that tag match, it was just growth. We capitalized at the end when it mattered. That ‘clutch’ gene.”
Jair flashed a smirk on that note.
“Enough about that, Mike. It’s all about me and you … and your little friend with the TBI condition. I’m going to put a mark on my career. I didn’t deserve a nomination this past year. Heh, I somewhat failed on first impressions, probably when I had numerous attempts on the Meltdown brand when I came into this world. However, I will do all I can to make 2013 a stellar year for both myself and my family, the Dying Breed. Come next year-end award show, we will dominate it. Come Asylum, I’m going to come at you with all I got. It may be for nothing, but for me, it’s vengeance I’m seeking. You did all you could do to try and break the spirit out of Bailey. I’m going to inflict the same. We’re in Manchester, England. It’s going to be ‘bloody’ spectacular.”
“For me, this match is a dedication. Mikey, you’re an evil soul with a tie on and a picture-perfect smile. I’m going to take that smile off your face. The tie, it will be my home-made choking device. Your heelish ways are going to cost you increments out of your lifespan messing with us. You could’ve left Bailey alone and went on with your business. No, you decided to take a bat to him and crush him with a chair and splattering butts off of a cigarette. You went beyond. I had to watch from afar, being that your side-bitch had me out in the crowd, ‘strong-arming’ me while repeatedly shouting words that made no sense. I don’t know if you know it or not, Callahan but payback is indeed a bitch!”
“To be honest, I’m not even sure how Bailey is still standing after the shit he’s been through. It’s all about hustle and commitment. To get where you want, you have to stride. To get to the top, you have to strive even harder for excellence. All this knowledge, training, ways of evolving, Jair Hopkins is indeed evolving with every day that passes. Jair Hopkins will indeed become a superstar sooner than later. Can’t worry about first impressions, it’s all about creating a legacy. Callahan’s going to be my first.”
The look in Jair’s face, the expression is intense.
“Sunday, I hope you are at your best and not too over-zealous because I’m coming for your damn head. Take it as a joke, take it however you choose, I’m coming for your head, bow and arrow!”
Just like that, Jair speaks his piece before instantly fading to black as the session ends.
