Barbershop Secession

I get my hair cut at a D.C. institution run by a gregarious Italian immigrant whom we shall call "Salvatore." You go to Salvatore's not for the quality of the scissorwork, but for the cheap prices, the bipartisan (though mono-religious) 8×10 glossies on the wall, and the funny conversation. Today, I can exclusively report, Salvatore is pissed.

"Are you a lawyer?" he demanded of each customer who walked in. Heaven only knows what kind of razors will be used today on representatives of the legal profession. Salvatore says that he'll refuse to comply with the new health care requirements on small businesses, and will send a letter to the president saying as much the moment he signs the thing into law. "It's-a no in my Constitution!" he kept saying. (He really talks that way, on purpose, because it's funny.) He even made several threats to close down his shop and move to Virginia, where lawmakers are filing a challenge that he seemed to be very well versed in.

DISCLAIMER: This is an anecdote, and as such proves nothing. Unless you're the president or the speaker of the House.