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Humiliated by haircutterguy


I had always been a good kid, never getting in too much trouble. I had also been blessed with a relatively nice face, which many girls seemed to notice when I got into high school. My hair was cut and styled in the modern fashion style: an undercut that was gelled up on top. This is my story of how I was humiliated.

When I got into 11th grade, my priorities shifted. I stopped focusing as much on school and more on my social life. I started partying and going out with girls, more and more. My parents noticed the change, and while they complained at me to get my grades up, they never did anything drastic. I had the idea that I could do whatever I wanted, and my parents wouldn't do anything, but boy was I wrong! I got my first really bad final grade in a class, and my parents had finally had enough. After yelling at me for what seemed like forever, they decided to take action. My dad told me to get in the car, and got angrier when I asked where we were going. I finally complied and he started driving.

We pulled into the parking lot of an old fashioned barber shop, and fear finally overcame me. I didn't care a lot about my hair, but I knew that it helped me look a lot better to girls. I pleaded with my dad to punish me in another way, but he said there was no other way to pay for my bad behavior. I sulked into the barber shop and accepted that I would loose my hair. To make the punishment even worse, I had to wait in suspense until it was my turn to sit in the chair.

I sat in the chair and out of the corner of my eye, I saw my dad whisper something to the barber, and the barber nodded. The barber walked over to my chair and put a black cape over my entire body. Then, despite my horror, he turned the chair to face away from the mirror, so I couldn't see what was happening to me. I expected him to ask me what I wanted, but when he didn't, I guessed that my dad had already told him. He took clippers to my perfectly styled undercut, and by the hair that rained down, I guessed they were short. I felt him run the clippers up the side of my head and all around, until my head was shaven to a single size buzz cut. Then, he put some warm water and lather all around the back and sides of my head, and used a razor to shave the sides and back bald. He put the cream on the top of my head, and I assumed he was shaving me fully bald. I was so scared by how I would look, but I convinced myself that I would be able to look fine as a bald. Plus, I'd only have to keep it for a couple of months. When the barber finally finished my terrible ordeal, and I turned around to see a different person, and I WASN'T BALD! My undercut had been shaven off, except for a horseshoe looking inch of hair wrapping around the outside of my head. It looked terrible, and I was regretting having to walk into school on Monday.

My dad paid the barber, and we left. I spent the whole ride home feeling my new hair. When we got home, my dad finally talked to me.

"As a punishment for your bad behavior recently, you will be required to keep this haircut until farther notice. You will shave the sides and top in the way they are now, every day, and we will go get your hair trimmed every two weeks. Now go to your room."

I sulked up to my room, and I spent the entire weekend wondering how people would react. When Monday finally came, I just wanted to go back in time. I walked into my first class and everyone noticed my head. I heard whispers like, "why does his head have a horseshoe," and, "what a dweeb." The girls I normally flirted with ignored me, and my friends distanced themselves. I was no longer the cool guy everyone liked. My parents got what they wanted, and I was forced to keep the haircut until I graduated.



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