YP

by Brent McDermott I’M EMBARRASSED TO  drive my car. The bumper has a green streak and prominent dent. The driver’s side door opens up just enough for me to squeeze my small frame into the driver’s seat. And when that door closes, it has…

by Brent McDermott SEVEN STRANGERS HAVE cut my hair in the past eleven months. I’m ready to make a clipper commitment. The conversation is always the same. “So… what are we doing today? How much do you want to take off the top?” Next,…