Yeah, I served. Twelve years. But it was the last three that fucked me up. Fucked me up. (He emphasizes his words by digging the clippers harder against my head). Personnel, mostly. It was great. Then I left and went into Special Forces. (Me: Isn’t that a promotion?) Yeah. Yeah it is. We have all kinds of training. Quantico. Fort Bragg. (Me: None of my business, but did you go overseas?) Yeah. Oh, yeah. No tours, though. Missions. We did missions. We did in, out. That shit they needed .Then out. Mosul. That’s where I fucked up my wrist. Fucked up my ribs. Saw some shit. Got P-T-S-D or whatever. Fucking V-A. You sure want your hair this short? I got meds. But fuck the V-A. I’ve got my wife’s health insurance. I had a good career. This is OK. But I don’t want to be cuttin’ hair.