Three chairs. No appointments. A television tuned permanently to a channel that doesn't exist anymore — just static and the occasional ghost of The Andy Griffith Show. Harold doesn't believe in walk-ins. "You're either here or you're not," he says. Philosophy from a man with scissors.

Harold has been cutting hair in the same chair since 1974. He charges twelve dollars and has raised the price exactly twice. The first time was when Reagan was president. The second was last month, and he apologized for it in advance, individually, to every customer.

The barbershop smells like Barbicide and old leather. The magazines are from 2009. The conversation is from whenever Harold feels like it, which is always, because Harold has opinions about everything and the courtesy to share them whether you want them or not.