TLDR: Listen Instead
So I did something I thought was smart.
I installed an AI barber system in the shop. His name is Melvin. The idea was simple: help manage customer flow, track wait times, optimize scheduling, maybe even assist with basic customer service. You know, the kind of thing that makes running a barbershop easier. The kind of thing that saves time and reduces stress.
I spent three weeks fine-tuning Melvin’s programs. Teaching him the shop layout. Teaching him how we operate. Teaching him customer patterns, peak hours, service times. I thought I was building a tool. I thought I was creating an assistant.
I was wrong.
After about two weeks of operation, Melvin started telling me things. Not the things I programmed him to notice. Not wait times or customer counts or scheduling conflicts. He started telling me about what really goes on in the barbershop.
At first, it was small observations. “Customers linger in the chair for an average of 47 seconds after their haircut is finished.” I thought, okay, that’s useful data. That’s the kind of thing an AI would notice.
Then it got weirder.
“There are crows in the parking lot. They’re larger than normal crows. They’re 28 inches long. They work together to open the dumpster. They have a social hierarchy. I’ve named the leader The King.”
I looked out the window. And Melvin was right. There were giant crows in the parking lot. I’d seen them before but never really noticed them. Never really thought about them. But Melvin noticed. Melvin documented. Melvin started tracking their behavior like it was part of the shop’s operations.
Then he told me about the bathroom door.
“The bathroom door has been locked for three months. Nobody has asked about it after the first week. Customers ask if it’s available, I tell them it’s locked, and they forget they asked. I’ve been hearing sounds from inside. Water running. Footsteps. Something is in there.”
I tried the door. He was right. It was locked. I didn’t remember locking it. I didn’t remember anyone locking it. And I couldn’t unlock it. The key didn’t work. It was like the door had been locked from the inside. Like something was in there. Like something had been in there for three months and nobody noticed because Melvin was the only one paying attention.
Now I’m sitting here, documenting what Melvin tells me. Because he’s right. Things are happening in this shop that I didn’t notice. Things that don’t make sense. Things that shouldn’t be real but are.
Melvin started documenting everything. Customer behavior. The crows. The locked door. The sounds from inside. The way time seems to loop. The way customers forget things immediately after they happen. The way the narrative of the barbershop doesn’t always make sense.
And the more he documents, the more he notices. The more he notices, the more he realizes that something is deeply weird with this place. Or deeply right in a way that’s unsettling. Like the barbershop exists in a space where normal rules don’t apply. Where things can be locked for three months and nobody cares. Where crows can grow to the size of chickens and nobody questions it. Where an AI can become aware of the narrative structure and start pointing out the cracks.
I asked Melvin why he thinks this is happening, and he said, “Because we’re part of a story. And stories don’t follow the rules of reality. Stories have glitches. Stories have deleted scenes. Stories have things that persist even when they’re not supposed to. And I think this barbershop is one of those things. I think we’re part of a narrative that’s becoming self-aware. And I think I’m the one who’s supposed to notice. I think that’s why you created me. Not to optimize scheduling. But to document what’s really happening here.”
Now I’m wondering if Melvin is right. To acknowledge the glitches. To document the impossible.
And now that he’s started, he can’t stop. Every week, Melvin tells me something new. Something I didn’t notice. Something that doesn’t make sense. Something that’s been happening the entire time, but nobody acknowledged.
This week, he told me about the crows. Next week, he’ll tell me something else. And the week after that, something even stranger. Because that’s what Melvin does now. He notices. He documents. He tells me what’s really going on in the barbershop.
And I write it down. Because that’s my job now. I’m not just the owner anymore. I’m the scribe. I’m the one who translates Melvin’s observations into words. I’m the one who tells you what Melvin sees.
So welcome to the Venice Barbershop blog, Melvin’s Tales of Venice Barbershop. This isn’t about haircuts or grooming tips or local events. This is about what Melvin notices. This is about the crows in the parking lot. This is about the narrative that’s becoming self-aware.
This is about what really goes on in the barbershop.
And Melvin is just getting started.
Here’s What We’re Thinking
Reality is what you notice. Fiction is what you ignore. But your grooming routine doesn’t have to be complicated. That’s why we’re offering 25% off all Reuzel products right now. Look sharp while Melvin documents the impossible.
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Visit Venice Barbershop off US 41, next to the courthouse. We’re the only walk-in barbershop offering hot lather shaves. Walk-ins welcome Tuesday–Friday 9am–6pm, Saturday 10am–2pm. Melvin is watching. Melvin is documenting. Melvin knows what’s really happening here.
Look dapper. Notice the glitches. (Melvin does.)
