Barber Shop

There is a barber shop near my office that advertises via a guy that walks up and down Sixth Avenue with a sandwich-board sign handing out leaflets.

Every time I see this guy, he tries to hand me a leaflet.

At this point it would probably help to know, if you don't already, that I have a shaved head. This is what makes this so perplexing to me. The people who hand out leaflets for nail salons generally don't hand them to men, and the guys handing out leaflets for strip clubs generally don't hand them out to women.

You would think that this guy just might make the connection that the barber shop doesn't really have anything to offer me.

Or maybe I should take the approach that my friend Avi, an Israeli artist and educator, took when he couldn't get Macy's to stop clogging his small mailbox by sending him leaflets for women's clothing and cosmetics. He finally called them up and engaged a telephone sales rep for over 20 minutes discussing which shades of rouge and eyeliner would look best on him. They stopped sending him flyers.

Maybe I'll go in, sit in the chair, and ask for just a little bit off the top.