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New Job, New Haircut by Vik Shah


Ever since I was a little boy, the sheering of hair by lady barbers fascinated me. I would attentively watch the barber sheer a person’s hair and would wish I could that be that person. But socially, the idea of being bald and being a potential laughingstock drew me away and so i always kept a standard hair style.

Fast forward to my adult life. After graduating college, I was on a quest to get a really short haircut. Given that I was about to start my new job, I wanted the short hair to symbolize a new beginning. I was on a quest.

I knew exactly where to go. I had found a nearby barber that was cute, aggressive, and a quick cutter. She had given me a fade/short on the back and sides, but never a crewcut/buzzcut. That was about to change. I got in 15 mins before closing time. I sat anxiously and was wondering how exactly i should have it cut. What would i say? How did i want to look? Should i completely shave it? Should i ask her? All of these questions were swirling in my head, and I was about to be in the chair very soon.

She called me name, asked me how i was doing, and that it had been a long time since I had seen her. After the small chit chat, we got down to business. "So what will it be today?" she asked. I responded with a bit vagueness, saying that i wanted something really short and to last me until summer. She nodded her head and pointed to a photo on a poster. The hairstyle in the photo was of a man with a trimmed sides (#3) and spiky hair on the top. Relatively short for most people. I quickly shook my head, saying I wanted something much shorter.

No questions asked, she capped me, put a tissue around me, and started cutting. Being away from the mirror, I was unsure as to the guard she was using. I felt a cold, metal feel during the first few swipes. Not knowing what she was doing, I took out my phone and showed her a picture instead. The picture was of a military man that had a crewcut. She looked at it and nodded her head — no questions asked, or no backing up.

She removed the guard, and started cutting. A minute later, my sides were shorn to a zero. She quickly attached a guard and plowed through the top. I had no idea what number she used, and i couldnt see in the mirror because i had my glasses on. The picture i showed her prolly had a #5/6 on top. After 15 more minutes of cutting and touch ups, she finally finished. She brought a mirror in front of me, i put on my glasses, and wow. I looked so different. She said that she used a zero on the sides and a three on the top. I couldnt believe this just happened and i started to regret it. She looked content.

I paid, walked away, and started my new job the next day.



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