The word “barber” comes from the Latin word, “barbum,” meaning, “person with the largest pair of scissors in a given town.” The act of cutting hair is one of severing and destroying. Think about the kind of person who could do something that violent every single day. This is the kind of person of whom you should be extremely wary.
One of the biggest risks people take when getting a haircut is that their barber could steal their leftover DNA and use it to clone them. Since cutting your own hair is illegal in most states, shaggy-haired individuals often have no alternative options.
Here are 5 warning signs that the protein filament pervert you call a barber is collecting your hair to clone you.
Your Barber Gets on His Hands and Knees and Puts Your Hair Clippings into a Plastic Bag at the End of Your Haircut
This should raise some eyebrows right away, as most barbers sweep hair clippings up and throw them in the garbage. But just because your barber collects your hair in plastic bags does not necessarily mean he has nefarious intentions. For example, one barber I had would squirrel away customers’ hair clippings so that he could make them into a wig. He used the wigs to construct various disguises in order to intimidate his stepfather into divorcing his mother. Nothing wrong there, but this isn't often the case: innocent and truthful reasons like that one are few and far between.
When You Stumbled Upon the Secret Laboratory in the Back of His Shop, Your Barber Yelled, “You’re Not Supposed to Be in Here!” And Quickly Ushered You Out
You got to your appointment a little early, but your barber didn’t appear to be there. So, with some time to kill, you decided to pick up a bottle of Barbicide and see if it could be used to get the Pepto-Bismol stains out of your shirt. (You drink Pepto-Bismol recreationally ever since you accidentally drank a glass of it in front of your friends, thinking it was a new flavor of Gatorade. To save face, you pretended that you did it on purpose because it is your favorite drink. You have done this for the last fifteen years.) Upon trying to lift the container of Barbicide, you discovered it was actually a lever. When pulled, the wall in the back spun around to reveal this secret lab.
The only explanation your barber offered for the room’s existence was that he was helping his son with a school science project, and then he quickly added, “Do you want a haircut or not?” But if his reason were true, why was he so eager to get you out of there? Why was it hidden in secrecy? And why would his son, who is forty-two and has no children of his own, create a project for a grade school science fair?
Something's fishy here, to be sure.
Your Barber Keeps Bringing Up His “Screenplay” About a Barber Who Uses His Customers’ Hair to Clone Them
Inevitably, at some point during your haircuts, your barber mentions the plot of this “screenplay.” He says things like, “You don’t think the barber would get caught if he did that, do you?” or “Would his customers get mad about that?” or “Could the police do anything about it? I’m just trying to make sure the story is realistic.”
To pick up on this clue, you’d have to use some deductive reasoning. Prior to this, whenever you tried to talk movies with your barber, he’d say that he doesn’t really watch movies. Therefore, it seems a bit out of character that he’d be writing a feature-length screenplay and why comments about it should be regarded as red flags.
All the New Workers Who Clean Up the Barbershop Look Identical to His Customers
I know, I know, the barber’s explanation that all his customers loved his barbershop so much that they volunteered to clean it up for free is an ironclad excuse. But hear me out; maybe these workers are actually clones of the customers, and the barber created them as free labor. This would also explain why there is an employee who looks just like you that works there.
And when you asked what this mysterious doppelgänger’s name was, your barber quickly said, “That? That’s, uh, Comb McScissors,” but he was holding a comb and a pair of scissors in his hands at the time. It’s possible that he was lying and came up with a fake name on the spot.
You Find Yourself at the Pier, Standing Next to Your Clone While Your Lover Points a Gun at Both of You, Shouting, “Which One Do I Shoot???” As Your Barber Laughs
Pretty much confirms it.