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When your usual barber is out of town by Mikkojrvinen


This story is based on my own experiences, but names and some details have been changed. Please bear with me as this is my first haircut story and English is not my native language. I hope you enjoy the story anyway.
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My name is Richard. I am 20 years old. I go to uni and spend my spare time working and hanging out with good friends. I have known most of my friends for almost ten years now and we really get along well. There is, however, one thing I never talk to my male friends about. Ever since my best friend Victor turned up to school with a short haircut, sides and back cut with clippers, I have been fascinated with short hair and I have wanted to get a similar haircut. Years have passed since, Victor has started growing out his hair and I have never found the perfect barber.
For a couple of years now I have been going to a barbershop located not far away from university. It is a small shop, with only two chairs, but there is only one barber, an older gentleman working there. He is probably a bit over 50 years old. The problem is, he always cuts my hair the same way. He is experienced and very good at using scissors and trims my hair in some kind of a longer business mans cut. He usually cuts the sides and back a bit shorter than the top but he leaves lots of length and has never used clippers on me. A couple of times I tried to ask him to cut my hair shorter, but I never saw any difference.

One Friday afternoon after finishing school early I decided it was time to get my hair trimmed. My hair on top was so long it was always hanging in front of my eyes, all around it was shaggy and needed to be cut. I approached the barbershop, looked in through the window and saw the shop was empty, which I thought was weird as afternoons before the weekend are usually quite busy. I entered the shop and quickly noticed the shop wasn’t empty, but a beautiful young woman, not many years older than myself, was sitting reading a magazine in the second barber chair. She quickly got up as she noticed me.
"Is Michael here? I’m here for a trim" I asked.
"I’m afraid Michael is out of town and won’t be back for a while", the young woman replied.
I was already on my way out of the shop when I felt a hand on my shoulder.
"Where are you going? You wanted a trim, I’ll give you one. My name is Vera, this is my shop as long as Michael is away" she said.

I had some doubts, as I had never had my hair cut by a female barber before. Also, Vera looked so young I wondered has she any experience or training in cutting hair. Most definitely, she did not look like your typical barber. Her bright red hair was cut about shoulder-length. I really didn’t have a choice did I? There was something about her, that made me feel like leaving the barbershop now was not an option.

"What are you daydreaming about? Come, sit here" Vera said and slammed her hand on the back of the chair, to show me she was serious.
I felt her behavior a bit intimidating and too dominant, as I am quite a shy person, but before I knew it, I started walking towards the barber chair and sat down.

The female barber opened a drawer and flung out a black nylon cape. It did not take many seconds before I was under the cape. However, she took her time fastening the cape. It was completely silent in the barbershop, the only thing I could hear was the cape buttons being closed, one by one. It felt like she knew I was nervous and she did it so slowly on purpose. As she finished doing it, the cape was really tight. I felt aroused, there was no way out of this anymore.
"I hope it’s not too tight", Vera said and laughed. Before I had a chance to say anything she had disappeared into a room at the back of the barbershop.

As I sat there in the chair, looking at my reflection in the mirror and my long and shaggy hair, I started thinking about my last haircut. My previous barbers had always made comments that I should come in more often to get haircuts, that getting a trim at least once a month would keep my hair in good shape. To me it just felt like a way for them to earn some extra money. And the thing is, my life is fairly busy as I am attending university and working evenings and weekends. My busy schedule is a good excuse for myself to not get my haircut so often, only every 3 months or so, but the real reason is that I enjoy my haircuts so much more when there is lots of hair getting chopped off. The transformation from long and messy to super short and buzzed was something I had fantasized about for many years, but it had never happened. Somehow, I guess I had already given up this fantasy, getting used to the scissor-cut, traditional haircuts I would always get and the fact that really short hairstyles were very rare for men of my age " all my friends and colleagues were either growing their hair really long, or they had a business cut, definitely nothing clipper-short.

My thinking was interrupted by Vera as she returned from the backroom of the barbershop.
"Well, it’s been quite a long time since you got your hair fixed hasn’t it" she said, running her fingers through my hair.
"Yes", I answered, a bit disappointed that this haircut would probably end up just like every other one I had during the last years, "work and life has been so busy. I really should get my haircut more often"
Vera continued playing with my hair with her hands.
"No, I don’t think so. I think the longer the hair, the better. It gives me more to work with, and it’s more hair to cut off", my barber said as she started to comb my hair.
I was mesmerized. That was definitely not the answer I was expecting. At this moment I got really nervous as I understood, I had no idea what was coming.

"So, what are we doing today?" she asked me. Before I had a chance to answer, she had already opened the drawer in front of me and was holding a pair of clippers in her hands.
"Well, I usually get the sides and back cut a bit shorter and leave it longer on top" I said nervously.
"How short can I go on the sides?" she asked.
Before I knew it, the words had come out of my mouth: "Well you are the professional, you decide. I trust you" I said.
It was obvious she was very happy with my answer as she nodded and smiled. "Good. I know exactly the haircut that will suit you".
Even though I had fantasized about a situation like this for many years, now as I sat in the chair with no way to escape, I felt very insecure and started to regret coming to the barbershop. After all, if this young woman messed up my hair, I would get in trouble at work and I was thinking about how my friends were going to react.
Vera quickly attached a guard to the clippers she had been holding the whole time.

"But just a trim", I said to Vera, looking at the big pair of clippers, in an attempt to calm myself down and ensure nothing too dramatic was going to happen.
"Just a trim", she replied and continued in a firm voice, "Head down", while pushing my head a bit down.
I obeyed and said nothing. So the clippers came to life. The sound made me a bit aroused but it was only when I felt the piece of metal vibrating on my skin I realized what was happening. The clippers started running from my neck up the back of my head in a very firm motion. I could feel my hair getting lighter and a breeze of air from the window.
"No, that’s not short enough" Vera said, "don’t you think?"
I had no idea how short my hair was as she had only cut the back of my head but I nodded.
"Good, let’s go #2 then" she said, and changed the guard on the clippers to an even smaller one.
The buzzing sound continued, but it was only as the barber moved onto the sides of my head I could see the damage that was being done. What felt like many inches of hair fell onto my lap. The hair piled up as Vera worked the clippers very efficiently, running up the side of my head without stopping for a second. The hair that remained on the side of my head was so short, I could see my skin through it, I had never even seen any of my friends having their hair that short. The barber did not say a word, and neither did I. She continued running the clippers very high on the sides, almost so it touched the top of my head that I usually kept the hair quite long. A sharp line had formed between the buzzed, shorn sides and back and the very long hair on top.

"You know, I have never had my hair cut with clippers before" I said.
"So, did you like it?" Vera asked.
"Yes, it felt really good", I surprised myself by smiling.
"Ok, well let me just cut the back and sides with the clippers once again to make sure it’s all even and cut. And I’ll make it even shorter in the back of the neck, a #1 will look short and neat on you".
Again, she did not ask me a question, she told me what was going to happen. I sat there, looking at my reflection in the mirror, and felt the clippers being run up my head again. It was an amazing feeling. Then, all of a sudden, the buzzing noise from the clippers ended.

"So, what are we going to do with all of this?" Vera looked at me in the mirror as she again started playing with the long hair on top of my head.
"Usually I get it trimmed so it is a couple of inches long, not shorter than that" I was saying but was interrupted.
"You know, we have two options. Either you can keep it this long and grow it, then we should just trim the ends a little bit. Or then we cut it. And if you let me cut it, I promise, there will be hair coming off. It’s your decision" my barber said while measuring my hair with her fingers, almost as she was looking at how much she wanted to snip off.
"You have really nice hair" Vera continued, as she started spraying the top of my hair with water and combing it carefully. "It would be a shame to cut it all off, right?" she asked.
At this moment I understood, that she was probably enjoying the moment just as much as I was.
"I guess so. As I told you earlier, I trust you and you do whatever suits me" I said, once again causing a big smile on my barber’s face.
"Ok, then we will just trim the ends a little bit" she said. I instantly felt disappointed.
Vera tightened the cape around my neck, opened the by now famous drawer, and out came a big pair of scissors.
"Just a trim", she repeated, as she took a section of hair, including most of my bangs, between her fingers and measured how much she would cut off at the ends. Almost no hair was going to be cut off this way, I was almost bored so I looked out of the window on the quiet street outside the barbershop.
What I did not see, as I was looking out on the street, was that Vera suddenly moved her fingers much closer to my scalp as I heard the scissors starting to cut. But I quickly realized what was going on, when practically all of my bangs, a heavy chunk of hair, landed on my lap. Immediately, Vera picked up the next section of hair and cut it equally short, it was not much longer than finger-length.
"Is that short enough?" Vera looked at me in the mirror with the smile I knew so well by this stage.
I did not say anything.

As Vera continued chopping off hair from my head, I was amazed how fast she worked around my head. We started talking about our hobbies, about our plans for Christmas, the usual chit-chat. But the only thing I could focus on was the cape on my lap getting filled with my thick, dark brown hair. Vera noticed me looking at the piles of hair and stopped cutting for a while.
"Starting to regret meeting me?" she asked, this time being quite serious.
"Well, you know, this haircut was definitely a surprise. But I must say, I love the feeling of having the sides and back shaved so short" I said, running my hands through the hair shorn down by the clippers not long ago.
"You are the first one to say so" Vera said. By now she was almost finished with chopping the hair on top of my head. The drawer opened, out came thinning shears, and some more hair came off the top. She also blended the finger-length, scissor-cut top to the very short buzzed sides and back.
"Now that’s a good-looking man" Vera said, as she held a smaller mirror in her hand and showed me the end result in the back of my head. The clippers had definitely done their work.

I thanked my barber as she unbuttoned the cape and a lot of hair fell on the floor. As I paid, she did not ask for the 25 dollars stated on the price list. "For you, it is 20 dollars" Vera said.
I paid and tipped her well.

Stepping out from the barbershop into the cold winter air and feeling the wind blow through my short hair, I knew there was no ‘maybe’, I was definitely returning here for my next haircut.

As I met my friend Victor the next day he almost did not recognize me. Victor had, like many other boys my age, started growing out his hair, almost so long he could have it in a ponytail. Victor seemed a bit jealous as he asked me where I had got that radical haircut.
"Just at my usual place" I answered him happily.

The months passed and it felt like my hair was growing faster than ever. One Thursday afternoon after work I finally decided it was time to get my hair cleaned up. My heart was beating very fast as I entered the block where the barbershop was located. I turned around the corner and opened the door to the shop.
"Well hello, I haven’t seen you in a while, how are you" said a familiar voice. I turned around and saw the gentleman that had been cutting my hair so many times previously. He was back and Vera was nowhere to be seen.
"Oh, by the way, you must have forgotten something here last time. My niece Vera asked me to give this to you" the gentleman said and handed me a small brown envelope.
I opened it. The envelope was empty, aside from a small piece of paper.
On the hand-written note was the name and street address of a barber shop in the neighbor city. "If you want a small trim, like last time, or maybe a bit shorter" she had written.

And that, dearest reader, is the story about how I found the perfect barber. As I am writing this, I realize my hair is really getting way too long and it has been more than 4 months since the last haircut. I might get another "small trim" quite soon " fortunately I know where to go…




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