Trim(An Urban Fiction Story)

TRIM ||1

    Russo Jamal Morris

" I don't want the mirrors over there, set them over here." I complained to the nigga's who weren't doing their job right.

"You shouldn't want anything anywhere. Why the hell you changing all this shit in my shop?" Russo's father angrily snapped while walking through the barbershop's door.

"My shop." Russo corrected his father. His father had been saying 'my shop' ever since he handed the keys to Russo, which was a year ago when Russo had finally turned 25.

"The mistakes I make always comes back and bites me in the ass." His father continuously complained. "Why the hell you keep changing things? They were fine the way they were."

"They were old and they were rusty. The shop needs change, and with change will come better things. Like customers." Russo said glancing all around the shop. They hadn't had any new customers in years, it's always been the same ones either coming to sit and talk about the women on the streets or the ones who barely had any hair to cut off their heads.

"Change!" His father yelled causing the few people in the shop to look his way. "You need to stop changing so much shit and hurry up and open these doors. I gave you the shop when you was 25, you 26 and still changing shit. Do you know how many customers we've lost ? Because you want to do stupid shit."

"When the shop is finished with its changes I'll open them doors, and when them doors open I'm going to be making double the money yo' ass was making when you owned this bitch." Russo crossed his arms over his chest.

"Nig-"

"Mr. Morris can we have you sign this?" Russo's father got interrupted.

"What for?" Russo walked around his father grabbing the clipboard and pen scanning over the paper a bit.

"New chairs come in tomorrow and like you said you won't be here so this is basically saying we have your permission to come and set them in."

"Oh yeah, make sure y'all don't break anything moving them in. I don't have money to be throwing around feel me?" Russo signed the paper before handing it back.

"No problem, we'll finish setting up the mirrors and be on our way." He walked off to the rest of his guys.

"Po-" Russo turned around stopping mid- sentence when he seen that his father was already gone. He slightly shook his head knowing that his father would probably be here tomorrow morning causing trouble.

Russo proceeded outside instantly feeling that summer's heat slap him on the face. Growing up in Miami was definitely no joke because it was always hotter then it was supposed to be. He couldn't complain though, Miami was where it was at. It was his home city.

"Shops almost done I see" Ortho Russo's uncle said stopping in his tracks once he recognized Russo standing outside.

"Yeah, pretty soon it's going to be filled with customers." Russo looked back smiling at the sign that was plastered on top of the shop. 'Trim'

"Changing the name?" Ortho looked up as well.

"Nah Unc, that would be taking it a little to far. That name is legendary." He chuckled a bit.

"Wouldn't you say? That name has been in the family for over 40 years." Ortho grinned. "How's your father taking all the changing going on?"

"The nigga is miserable." Russo shook his head.

"That's good." Ortho's grin got wider. He loved to hear how Harold, Russo's father was miserable. It was music to his ears.