Priorities

SO I went for a haircut on Friday, my barber being the victim of several acts of well publicized vandalism.
He had just finished telling the other patrons and I about his tormentors latest attack: complaining to the
police that he was selling booze in the shop. He had been visited by two plain clothes officers a few days before and
questioned about it. I was incredulous that the police would even bother, knowing he had been a victim of this crap
before.

“You’ve know me for fifteen years, have I ever sold booze in my shop?” He asked. “No, and why would anyone want to drink in
a place with hair floating around?” was my answer. We laughed at the ridiculous notion. That’s when the undercover cop
walked in, talking about how his buddy said he could get a beer here. The barber asked who his buddy was, since he knows most
customers by name. “Uhhhhhmmm… Bill?” That’s when I started laughing, and the guy leaving says, “you look like a cop.” No response from the cop.
He just ignores it, looks down at his feet. Then says that his other buddy, “this Asian guy” said that he did shots here.
At this point I am in shock, and we are all just staring at him. He goes red, and mumbles “be right back” never to return.

I want to know how much this cost. Three grand? Someone sat in a room and decided that this was a worthwhile exercise. That this was
a problem worth investigating. That guy dressed up in character, with a practiced story, for 30 bucks an hour,
to harass a victim of harassment. To say my barber was upset and distraught would be an understatement. When I left he
was talking about going back to his home country. “Where were they? Why are they harassing ME?” Indeed. Where were these guys when someone cut his oil line?
Where was this buffoon? God forbid someone mess with their monopoly on liquor. That merits this bullshit attempt. GFY HRPD. —Barber Walters

This article appears in Mar 8-14, 2012.