Twenty-five years ago, I moved from my well sheltered, anglo-saxon community in NE Ohio to NJ to start a job just out of college, Hackensack to be exact, Nice little garden apt. with some guy I didn't know from Adam at $950 a month ('87). A couple months pass, job is fine, but I need a damn haircut.
So I pull out the yellow pages and see what's close by, never really paid attention to the barbers in the area as it wasn't a need at the time, and more pressing needs like groceries and pizza joints were front and center, anyway. So the closest "barber" was just about 3 blocks away, cool I'll walk. I call and get an appointment for later that day at "Hair's Our Family" barber shop (this should have been the red flag required, but hey I was 23) So I walk down the 3 blocks and see the sign and sling open the door and walk in...here I stood, the only white guy within a few blocks and a damn mop of hair on my head that had it's own micro-climate and an appointment. I'm not sure whose look of shock was more evident, mine or the 13 black ladies who were staring at my blazingly white countenance...oh the horror.
I quickly suveyed my options and decided to sack up and get my haircut anyway, figuring I would look pretty shitty turning around and walking out, besides, how bad could it be? Once they realized I wasn't going anywhere they had me take a seat and discussed who would be the sacrificial lamb to cut the "white guys" hair. I laughed along with them because, well by now it was just funny. Even more funny was the look on the endless parade of old black dudes who would pop in to charm the ladies, see me sitting there and watch their faces change from wanna be pimp to what the fuck, the ladies just laughed. So this poor young girl fresh outta cosmetology school, laboriously struggled through my haircut.
Long story short, that was a perfect opportunity to spread racism from either direction, in the end though, we all just kinda had a good laugh about it.
The haircut was fine but I decided not to return...