Joe is always the way Joe is. Always giving you a heartfelt smile. Always shaking your hand. Always saying, “Good to see ya, handsome.” Always letting you talk about yourself. Always brandishing his clippers along to his little agreements and embellishments. “Absolutely. Mhm, mhm. I completely agree.”

His shop, Sulimay’s, reminds me of the classic barbershops that exist within public consciousness but which are rarely seen. Sinatra plays over the speakers. Men from all walks of life — construction workers, pilots, tattoo artists — banter good-naturedly. They sit in well-worn wooden chairs arranged before a stately, gilded mirror. But what’s really important is Joe. His hair slicked back, oval glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, the sleeves of his white collared shirt rolled half-way up his forearms; here stands the world’s greatest conversationalist.

I am familiar with the haircut-as-confession ritual. I talked with my childhood hairdressers, but that was just talk. For Joe it is an art form. He has perfected the ability to make people comfortable and draws them into a space where they feel free to speak their mind. He asks the right question, nods and hmms and agrees at just the right moments, jumps in to contribute for the perfect number of syllables, then stops. He invites you to say the things you never get to say in the way you never get to say them because nobody else is good enough at listening. You walk out feeling like a very important person with some rather enlightened things to say. I think Joe would say that you are.

Somehow, it is a small business with a lesson: listen more. Make other people happy by making them feel important. The world and your life will be better for it.

There are a number of good reasons to visit Sulimay’s. The price has always been reasonable and the results more than satisfactory. Those are the primary requirements for a haircut, I suppose. But really you go for Joe. You like the people in the waiting area more because you know that they like Joe too. The environment is welcoming, and you would think that it was a nice place to get a haircut regardless, but really it is an extension of Joe. If it is inviting, it is because he makes it so.

I do not live anywhere near Joe’s shop. When I first started going to him, I lived a mile and a half away. Not bad for Philadelphia. Then I moved and was three miles away. Still a reasonable bike ride. Another move has stretched the journey to six miles, but it hardly matters. As long as I live in Philadelphia, Joe will be the man that cuts my hair.