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In the Genes by Raldo (recovered) by Gator


In The Genes
By Raldo

After my parents were divorced I stayed with my Mum and step Dad for almost a year. Once the honeymoon period was over the arguments started with them and soon became a daily occurrence. Eventually we all agreed that it would be better for all of us if I went to live with my Dad. I had stayed with my Mum after the divorce because Dad travelled around a lot on business and it was easier for me to stay where I was but I was really looking forward to being with him as soon as possible.

It took a couple of weeks to sort things out before he was able to come to collect me but the day eventually arrived. I had not seen him since he moved out after the divorce as he lived a fair distance away and had been away on business almost continually since then.

The day arrived for him to come and collect me. When he arrived my Mum answered the door and let him in – I could hardly believe my eyes, his thick medium length business man’s haircut had been replaced with a very short combable high and tight. It was such a radical change and he looked so different, my Mum stepped back in shock and blurted out “what the hell have you done to your hair, what were you thinking? It looks awful”. My Dad just looked past her and turned his attention to me, he smiled and said we should get my things in the car and get moving since we had a long drive ahead of us, I was very happy not to hang around and we were soon on our way.

Once we were in the car and on our way I couldn’t stand it any longer I had to ask him about his new haircut. He said that as soon as he’d moved to his new house the first thing he’d done was find a good barbershop and get a decent haircut, it was his way of moving on and making a fresh start after the divorce. He said that before they were married and all through his childhood he had always had really short hair and loved it that way but once they had married my Mum had nagged and nagged him to grow it longer. He liked his hair short and didn’t want to grow it but gave in to her demands just for a quiet life and when I came along Mum had always taken me with her to have my hair styled in a salon and I never had it anywhere near short. He told me that if he could go back he would have never grown his hair out and I would have been taken to the barber with him every couple of weeks for a crew cut or some other short haircut – the thought of that excited me. I had never really given much thought to getting a short haircut probably because it was never on the agenda but at the same time in a strange way the idea had always appealed to me.

Dad informed me that he would be going away on a business trip in a couple of weeks to meet important clients and I would need to smarten myself up. When we arrived home he would take me to get some new clothes and a couple of smart suits since I would be going with him. After we had dropped off my belongings at the house he took me into town and spent a small fortune on new clothes for me – I had to look good when we were away he said. Once we had finished shopping he said we needed to visit the barbers to get cleaned up before the trip. I looked at him and said maybe I need a trim but his hair didn’t need cutting because it was already short, he pointed out than it was almost two weeks of growth and the sides and back had been shaved clean and were now ready for doing again since they were looking unkempt and shaggy. I was fascinated at the idea of watching him get his haircut so short, he was so different with his new image – much manlier and more positive in his outlook. He told me he’d like me to get a shorter haircut but exactly how it was cut was up to me as long as it was shorter than I’d been having it cut. He said my current hairstyle wouldn’t project the right image with his clients and it was time to start taking care of my appearance now that I was becoming a man. He said there were lots pictures of really great men’s haircuts in the barbershop that would give me some idea of the options open to me; this would be a different experience for me and would be nothing like going to the stylists I’d been to in the past.

We entered the barbershop, it was a very strange environment to me I’d never set foot in one before. There was a very manly smell and feel about the place, not the sort of place you would expect to find women. We sat down to wait our turn, the shop was quite full, my Dad read a newspaper but I watched intently as several men’s heads were efficiently stripped of their hair, I was surprised to see how much better they all looked after the barber had finished and how much more self-confident they all looked when they got out of the chair. As our turns got closer I could feel the excitement and anticipation rising in me, the thought of those clippers slicing through my hair simultaneously excited and horrified me. My Dad got up quickly when it was his turn and sat in the big leather chair with a big smile on his face like he couldn’t wait to have his hair cut, the barber wrapped him in a big striped cape and put a paper strip around his neck. He looked at my Dad and asked “the usual?” Dad nodded. I watched intently, fascinated by the whole process, I’d entered the barbershop thinking he didn’t need a haircut because his hair was so much shorter than I’d ever seen him with it but as the clippers buzzed their way up the back of his head I was amazed at the difference they made and how much hair was coming off leaving behind almost naked skin. I enjoyed watching the whole of the haircut but I especially liked seeing the barber apply shaving cream around the sides and back of his head right up to the crown and then seeing him shaved smooth with a cutthroat razor. It wasn’t long before he was finished and stepping out of the chair. As the barber brushed him down he looked sharper than I could have ever imagined. I thought he looked good before we came into the barbershop but now I could see how much he had really needed a haircut; this is how it should look all the time. I know that I’m going to enjoy these more frequent visits to the barbers from now on. I was more than impressed with his look and now it was my turn to take the chair.

I had a couple of minutes wait before I got in the chair while the barber answered the phone, my Dad sat down next to me and asked what I thought of his haircut, he looked a little surprised when I told him he looked fantastic and I could see why he’d had it that way before he was married, it really suited him, he should never have given in and grown it. He told me how incredible it felt and how enjoyable it was touching it; he asked if I’d like to feel it, I’d been waiting for an excuse to see how it felt so I jumped at the opportunity. I ran my hand slowly but firmly up the back of his head and couldn’t believe how perfectly smooth it felt and as I reached the crown it began to feel like sandpaper. I loved it; I couldn’t believe just how tactile it was. He smiled at me and said if he’d had his way mine would have been very short since I was a kid but not quite as short as his. Before I got in the chair I asked him how he’d like me to have it cut but he repeated what he said earlier that he’d like to see it shorter than it was but he wanted me to be my own man and make my own decisions.

I got up and took my turn in the chair, I’d looked around the barbershop at all the pictures on the walls of short haircuts, they were all appealing in their own ways and I’d watched several very nice and very short haircuts take place while I’d been waiting but when the barber had caped me and asked me how I’d like it cut I didn’t hesitate with my answer, I said I wanted it cut exactly like my Dad’s. The barber seemed a little taken aback at my request perhaps because my hair was fairly long and thick, he looked round at my Dad and asked for his approval. Dad just smiled in my direction and said it’s his hair and his decision; give him the haircut he’s asked for. I should have been sitting there dreading what was about to happen but I was enjoying every moment and couldn’t wait to see what it would feel like to run my hand up the back of a very smooth head into the sandpaper on the crown, in the back of my mind I had thought I might regret this because it would be a massive change for me but if I hate it then it will grow again. It was too late now the clippers had already cleared the hair from the back and right side of my head down to very short stubble right up to the crown and they were just starting to buzz the hair from the left side of my head. Huge chucks of brown hair were rolling down the cape and piling up in my lap. My head was feeling lighter and colder by the second. The barber worked very quickly cropping off the hair around the sides reducing the hair on top to about an inch. He finished cutting and applied a liberal amount of Brylcreem and worked it in before combing it neatly to the side. He was about to leave it like that with the back and sides buzzed down to the skin but I said I’d asked for the same haircut as my Dad so he finished me off with a nice hot lather shave on the back and sides and then to my surprise he asked me if I’d like him to clean up my face with a quick shave, there wasn’t much hair there but enough to spoil the look of a sharp haircut so I said yes that would be good. Without another word he spread shaving cream across my face and top lip and quickly shaved my face smooth. My Dad was watching and thanked him for removing the facial hair and said clean-shaven was the order of the day from now on especially with such an outstanding haircut; he was never a fan of facial hair. The impromptu shave just added to the overall experience and made me feel even more like a man.

I proudly stepped out of the chair and was brushed down by the barber; my Dad got up and gave me a big smile and nod of approval and went to pay while I stood in awe looking in the mirror. Dad came back and stood beside me, looking in the mirror I could see the very strong resemblance between us I was like a younger version of him, he said he’d dig out some old photos later so I could see just how much like him I now looked. I enjoyed the whole experience and absolutely loved the haircut but above all was very happy that it suited me. The day had been a big bonding experience for both of us, he had not expected me to get my hair cut like his even though he admitted he wanted me to have it really short. When we got in the car to go home he asked if he could feel it – I said sure, he ran his hand up the back of my head ever so slowly, I wasn’t prepared for the sensation – it was a total shock, while it felt really good touching it myself, it was a new experience when someone else touched it. He gave ran his hand up the back of my head every time he came near me for the rest of the day – it felt so good.

We went home and showered and Dad told me I should wear my new suit and shirt and tie and we could go out for dinner. I can’t remember ever looking so smart or feeling so good about myself standing in front of the mirror, my Dad came in dressed and ready to go, he looked me over and said it’s amazing what a good haircut, shave and new clothes can do for a man and said he believed the urge to have short hair was written in my genes and now I’d had my first decent haircut there would be no going back- he was right I knew it the minute the barber had finished my haircut this would be how I was going to keep it from now on, even though it had only just been cut I was already looking forward to the next haircut. This would certainly be a day to remember.

Two weeks passed very quickly, Dad had a couple of appointments the day before we were going away, I went with him since we were going to the barbers for a pre-trip haircut. I was looking forward to getting a haircut, my hair had grown out a fair amount in such a short time and looking at myself in the mirror I looked sharp dressed in a suit and shirt and tie but the hair was letting me down. The haircut had looked incredible when it was freshly done but the hair on top was far too unruly, it was springing up and wouldn’t lay flat no matter how much Brylcreem I applied, Dad had even commented on it and suggested that I should consider going a little shorter when I get it cut. The idea of a shorter cut was very appealing. I had been tempted to ask for something shorter last time but decided that this was a radical enough change to start with but now I think I have the short hair bug.

Once the appointments were finished we drove to the barbershop, there were only a couple of customers before us so we took a seat and waited our turn. I sat watched the man in the chair getting a very short flattop and thought to myself that would solve the problem of thick hair standing up and growing out messy. I turned to my Dad and asked him what he thought of the haircut, he said he liked it and had had his cut that way a few times when he was my age. He asked what I was thinking and I told him I might try it out, he passed no comment just smiled at me.

When our turn came I got up quicker than Dad and said can I go first, he said fine he was still reading an article in the newspaper. I got in the chair and the barber wrapped the cape around me and placed the paper strip round my neck. He combed my hair though before asking how I’d like it cut, looking at my hair in the mirror I knew that even though I would love it when it was cut I didn’t want it to look like this again in a couple of weeks, so when the barber asked me how I’d like it cut I said like the last haircut he did. This time he didn’t ask my Dad for approval he just turned on the clippers and started cutting. Even though there was only two weeks growth of hair on the back and sides I was amazed at how much was coming off. The best part was when he reduced the hair on top down to a very short Flattop and created a landing strip down the middle. After lots of buzzing and clipping all that was left to do was shave the back and sides smooth and then show me the result with the hand mirror. It looked much shorter than I expected it to, I was left with very little hair on my head and this time I felt almost naked. I got out of the chair and went closer to the mirror to examine the results. It was a precision haircut, not an unnecessary hair in sight, the sides were absolutely smooth and free of hair and the top was so crisp and flat it could have been done with a spirit level and the landing strip finished it all of perfectly. I stepped back and looked at the whole package of me in a smart suit and tie with a haircut that could not be improved on and knew that I’d made the right choice.

My Dad put down the newspaper realizing that it was his turn, got up and came over to me and said “that’s 100% the haircut for you, it suits your head shape and you’ve never looked smarter, keep it that way”. He couldn’t resist feeling it all over and I enjoyed that as much as he did, it was far more tactile that when just the sides were shaved and I would be enjoying this haircut for a long time to come. Dad got in the chair and before I took a seat I said to him, “so how are you having you hair cut?” he smiled and said, “I don’t know, probably the usual”. The smile on his face told me that wouldn’t be the case. I watched with encouragement as his haircut progressed and was really impressed when he stepped out of the chair with the same precision flattop as me. On the way home he told me he wasn’t going to be out done by me. I liked that – haircut rivalry – that could make things interesting for future haircuts but for the foreseeable future we are both sticking with our short flattops.

The End




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