New Barber (translated) by Raul (translated by anon)
New barber new problem. For years I've had the same hairdresser and the same scissors cut short hair. I would sit in the barber chair and Miguel worked without my giving him instructions.
I am an agronomist and my work had taken me to the countryside to a village called Gral Belgrano, in the province of Buenos Aires a few years ago. We had rented a house for me, my wife and 5 year old son near downtown Paso street, just meters from the Boulevard leading to the old train station. I worked in a field of INTA conducting studies of soil fertility.
Actually, we adapted quickly to this place that was not so far from Buenos Aires (140 km), so almost all long weekends relatives and friends came to visit from the Capital.
After nearly a month and a half of being there, it was time for my first haircut. As a good foresighted man I had already identified a shop close to home. I think you would agree, most guys wouldn’t have. He was on the Boulevard and the sign that protruded from the wall PRITOS BARBERSHOP. Friday, over breakfast, before leaving for the fields my wife reminded me that the next day my in- laws were coming to visit and my godmother and after work I had to take Nicholas, our son to cut his hair. My hair was not too long but it was shaggy, so I said I was prepared to go.
I came from the countryside in the evening as usual, and I remember I showered, had a cup of tea and we walked to the barbershop. It was beginning of the afternoon when we entered the old-fashioned barber shop. Two chairs and two older barbers working. There were no people waiting so we sat down and I gave a magazine to Nico to entertain him while I analyzed the barbers. I was never very meticulous with hair but I must admit I had a tingle in my stomach. I resented having to start with instructions about the haircut and all that stuff. When one of the barbers was free he asked me who was getting a haircut. I told him we both were and he told me to lift my son into the chair if he was to go first. I took my son to the highchair that the barber had arranged facing the mirror. Nico was wrapped with white coat. As he began to comb, he asked me what cut and without further ado, I had already decided to do the easy thing: Give him a # 1 buzz, I said.
While this was happening the other chair was vacated and the barber invited me to chair. He caped me and massaged my shoulders, and asked me what we were doing. A A short fade, I told him. Nico had already begun to be peeled. When I was watching as he went up to Nico’s crown with the machine , I felt like my hairdresser was pushing my head down and starting at the base of the neck my barber began to climb up a little higher than usual. The two skinheads were being given mercilessly. When I could lift my head after he peeled my side, I saw my son absolutely shaven and I had only left a little hair on top that was too short to comb my hair. My short my hair was combed up and clean snips were taken and, after a last pass of the machine shaved the contour of the neck. Nico had already been sheared and had been taken down from the chair. He finished with me, I paid and left. At home, my wife kept touching my bare head and laughing. She loved our visit to the hairdressers. Obviously there were more skinheads for some visits, we had my wife as a spectator....