There are only four stations at Val’s Barber Shop.
Val Suyunov, the owner, mans the one closest to the front plate-glass window, where the shop’s humble name is proclaimed is big, bold golden letters.
“Val’s is old-fashioned,” he says proudly. “Like the sign in back says: Enter as strangers, leave as friends.”
Men – the wholly haired to the brazenly bald – come to Val’s for a haircut, a hot-towel shave and a muscular fellowship that is rooted in each clip and snip.
“I’m…
