Bob's story....

This is my uncle, Bob Huffman (pictured with his lovely wife and daughters). This is his story in reference to "I Love Fanta!":

I made the same mistake too, should have left Bass Barbershop in Clarksville, Virginia when I realized the barber must have lived through the Civil War and all the hang-arounders in the shop were "slow" and "closely related" if you get my drift. The haircut started off badly when he put the neck tissue & cover cloth on sooooo tight I thought he was trying to kill me, my face turned as red as the leather on the barber chair. His dull scissors & shaky hands soon began pulling and yanking out my hair but the worst was yet to be. I was terrified to hear the sound of metal slapping a leather strap, yep, he was yielding a straight razor! Before I could move he had it to the back of my neck, thankfully the scissors were much sharper than the straight razor, he just pulled & scraped all the hair out of the back of my neck. My relief was short lived when he slapped tonic across the area he just "shaved" causing a burn I'll never forget. My ordeal over, I got up, paid & tipped him which got the unwanted attention of everyone in the shop, guess they had never seen tip before, I was setting a really bad precedent and their eyes told me so. Walking down the streets of Clarksville, I saw my reflection in the old wavy glass of the shop windows and thought this isn't that bad. Entering the ladies clothing store I was quickly corrected by the immediate laughter I received from my family and the shopkeeper they were talking to. The shop keeper KNEW where I had been and she informed me, "none of the men in town go to Bass, they all use the beauty parlor for their haircuts". Monday morning I was back in my usual barber's chair getting a real haircut.