A Barbershop Duet, Part Two: Sneed's 8th and I

Photo by María Helena Carey

You may remember my post from a couple of weeks ago, on the experience of getting a haircut (vicariously) at Brice’s Barbershop.  Today, I will tell you about Sneed’s Barbershop, at 8th and I Streets, SE.

Where Brice’s is a loud, colorful affair, Sneed’s is a subdued one.  The space is tidy and stark, with just the right amount of chairs for waiting one’s turn and the right amount of barber chairs to handle a lunchtime crush.  The brightest item in the room, besides the American flag, is one of those red contraptions that allow you to take a number so you can wait your turn in an orderly fashion; otherwise, Sneed’s is a little island in black and white.  Seemingly the number one choice of most of the Marine boys holed up at the Barracks, there is a steady stream of very young, bright-eyed testosterone lining up at almost all times of day at Sneed’s– hence the need for the number-taker.  As a matter of fact, if you do not want to wait a long time for a haircut, I would strongly suggest you skip lunchtime and aim for earlier in the morning or swing by after the noontime crush, when you are likely to find the barbers more calm and filled with patience to tackle four-year-old heads, for instance.

The cadre of elders who have been cutting hair at Sneed’s are all very taciturn: at our last visit, most of the talking consisted in directions for holding my son’s unruly head as steady as possible, so I can only imagine that if you can sit still in your seat, you could end up having a wordless haircut.  I asked our barber how long he’d been cutting hair and he coyly announced that he’d been doing it his whole life.  No amount of sweet-talk made him bring down his guard and tell me how long that would be, but he did make it clear that he is not a young whippersnapper anymore, and hair cutting has been and continues to be his life.

Photo by María Helena Carey

So then, the charm at Sneed’s comes from watching those silent, expert men cut hair.  They approach every head with reverence and cut slowly and efficiently, even as little heads refuse to cooperate and a ten-minute haircut becomes a twenty-minute torture by whining– but I digress.  The haircuts take just long enough, and the price is right– especially if you are part of the Armed Forces, Police or Fire.

(Or a child)

Now, who is ready for a haircut?  My scalp is getting all itchy.