As a man in Hoboken you have three options for how to get your hair cut.

1. The Barber. The barbers are very old Itallian guys. The kind of guys who still allow smoking in their shops. They have Playboy in their magazine racks. These guys are tough. They can cut for sure, but it is intimidating since 95% of their clients can speak to them in their native tongue.
2. The Salon. 30 bucks and they treat you nice, maybe offer you a scotch or glass of wine. Everyone else in there though Tivos Desperate Housewives.
3. The cheap places where you don't need an appointment. These places are universally the same. Seven or Eight hispanic girls between 18-25 in skimpy outfits who just graduated from cosmotology school and one Gay guy. They blare, at in Spinal Tap terms 11, the latest beats. It takes from wash to payment less than 20 minutes to get your hair cut, and they do a decent job.

I think it may say a lot more than I am willing to admit that I have with one or two exceptions chosen option three for the last eight years. I spend way too much time thinking about haircuts, especially since my style really hasn't changed since I was 19, and stopped parting it down the side for the comb forward.