Barber shop gallery

Went to get my hair cut today. I've been going to the same barber, Luis Jesus Gonzalez, aka "Mr. Luis" at Astor Place Barber for years. "Like always?" he ask, "Yeah, but keep it a little longer on top." As he starts buzzing, I straighten my head and look forward. His wall mirror is bordered with so many taped photos that the viewing area is just large enough to see yourself in the center. He's even added cardboard extensions above and to the sides so that he can expand his photo gallery beyond the mirror. Not that I mind. I've been looking at these images for years. Photos of his celebrity, or near celebrity customers like Adam Sandler and Sinbad; postcards of smiling thonged bikinied girls sunning on the beaches of his native Cuba; snapshots of him posing in front of barber shop from his various vacations spots; photos of his children from communion to wedding. I've become so use to seeing one of his customer's photo that when she came by in person, I almost felt like I knew her, "Hey, it's you! Hi," as I point at her and back to her picture. She ignored me. the bitch.
He occasionally tries to sell things in between clippings. He has Cuban Cohiba cigars in plastic baggies on display between his Wahl clipper blades and Pinaud Clubman styling gel or he'll opens his locked cabinet to show me a Fauxlex watch, for me at a good price. thanks, but no thanks.
I usually close my eyes as he cuts. Partly so hair doesn't get into my eyes but mostly because it's so relaxing. My favorite part is the touch ups. He has a new hot shaving cream dispenser that feels great and he uses a straight edge razor to finish the back edges and sideburns. Scraping and shaving, hoping he doesn't slip. When he's done, he brushes away the extra hairs off my neck with talc, holds up a hand mirror and shows me my back and sides, and says, "Nice and neat, ready for dancing! Next victim!"