Get Rid of it All by Jack
Gary and I met at a pool. He is one of those classic, good looking guys with just the beginnings of a receding hairline. He wears it very closely cropped, probably no longer than a #1 clipper attachment. He`s a great swimmer and a natural athlete. To watch Gary do a flip turn is like watching a gymnast perform.
I`m just a fitness swimmer plodding along in the water, no fancy flip turns and quite definitely not a natural athlete. I have a toned body, but no one would ever call it muscular. My hair is brown, pretty straight, side parted, long on top, tapered back and sides. Nothing special. It`s pretty much always been cut the same. I frequently think about citting it shorter but never really make the move. I think guys with short hair look great but figure it wouldn`t look as good on me. I also have this thing about barberrshops and hair clippers and anything associated with men`s haircuts. I imagine how and where it would be done. Forced haircut fantasies are my favorite.
Gary and I got to be pretty good swim buddies. It started out with him giving me tips on how I could improve my stroke. I guess he enjoyed helping me as he gave me a quick lesson almost every time I saw him. Then, after a few months of accepting these impromptu lessons, I asked him out to lunch to thank him. My swimming had improved greatly. We had a casual lunch. It was nice to see him outside of the pool. It was also nice to see him dry and dressed.
Soon we were great friends and even began going to each other`s apartments to watch movies and order pizza. We would drink and talk about stuff that we had not talked with anyone else about before. I even sort of told him about my haircut fantasies. He confessed that he was really into nude swimming. Hmmmmmm.
One day at the pool he grabbed me and told me that he had found this place that had a pool with a `no suits allowed` rule. He was going to check it out over the weekend and wanted to know if I was interested. Sounded great to me. I told him that I needed to get a haircut Saturday morning and would come over to his place afterwards. He looked at me and suggested that this would be a great time for me to try out a buzz cut. He made the point that he was going after his nude swimming thing and that I should be brave and go after mine. I said I might. He laughed and said he doubted it.
Saturday came. I had been checking out barbershops all week driving to dfifferent neighborhoods looking for just the right place to get my short haircut. I was rather excited with the one I had selected. I drove over and looked in the window. Just as I had remembered it, a one-man shop, great old chair and a balding, middle aged barber. There was what looked like a father and son waiting and there was a guy in the chair who was just finishing up. I walked in and sat down next to the boy. The kid was very fidgety but quiet. The man next to him was reading the paper.
The place smelled great, sort of like aftershave mixed with tobacco, much as I had hoped. There were old posters of men`s haircuts hanging on the walls. They looked like they were from the fifties. The room was painted a nondescript grey color that had yellowed with smoke. It appeared to have been years since it had seen a fresh coat of paint. The floor was sort of a plaid linoleum in need of a good buffing and was littered with the day`s hair trimmings. The red leather chair was very worn and had the traditional strap dangling from the right side. There was a big mirror behind it with a counter under it lined with the barber`s favorite tools, but there was no mirror hung in front. It was easy to imagine the old days when the shop was new and filled with the neighborhood gang puffing on their big cigars. It seemed perfect.
The barber finished with the guy in the chair, nothing unusual, just a normal businessman`s cut. The guy paid him and was out of there.
The barber motioned to the kid. The boy was maybe seven and had rather long hair, all one length, very straight. It fell just below his ears and hit his collar. The man reading the paper took a sudden interest as the boy slowly walked toward the barber and reluctantly crawled into the chair. The barber looked at the man and asked him how he wanted the boy`s hair cut. The kid did not make eye contact with the man; he just looked down. It was obvious that this haircut was not his decision. `Get rid of it all. Nice and short,` was the reply and he went back to reading his paper.
My ears perked up upon hearing the instructions. I watched as the kid got scalped imagining it was me with my dad sitting there forcing me to get this haircut against my will. The barber was relentless and really seemed to be enjoying this. That just intensified my excitement. The poor kid looked so unhappy. How could I take delight in his misery? The barber was cutting his hair down to nothing without even an attachment on the end of his clippers. They were placed on the kid`s forehead and in one quick motion there was a wide stripe plowed through the top of the boy`s head. The rest was removed just as rapidly, and then the deed was done.
The barber began to unfasten the cape. The boy stroked his now bald head. He was biting his lip to hold back tears as he was spun around to face the mirror and view his reflection. `Short enough for you, Dad? What did ya do anyway, Kid?`
The dad looked up as the kid got out of the chair. `Wow, I didn`t think you`d shave his head, Man.`
`You said, get rid of it all!`
The father looked a bit horrified and ashamed as his son walked toward him and returned to his original seat. He skulked over to the barber`s chair and sat down. He wasn`t very old, perhaps in his late twenties. He had a full head of hair and wore it in what might be best described as a taper cut but on the long side.
`So, just a trim then, Buddy?`
The father stared over at the sad little boy still stunned by what had just happened to him. `No, not today. Get rid of it all, nice and short, just like the kid`s.` The boy came back to life with those words and watched as the bare clippers forged the same path across his father`s scalp. They made easy work of it and in a few minutes both father and son were sporting the same triple zero buzz cut. He got out of the chair and walked over to his son, bent down and rubbed the kid`s head. The kid rubbed his Dad`s, `feels great, huh, Son?` They paid and walked out friends again.
That left just me. I felt as fidgety as the kid. The barber motioned to me. I reluctantly approached, took my place and prepared to speak. . .get rid of it all, nice and short, just like the last two. But the words just stuck in my throat. I looked around as he fastened the cape around my neck and lifted the chair.
Finally he broke the silence. `So, what`s it gonna be today, Man? Just clean you up?`
`Yep, I mean, well, yes, Sir. Um. . .yeah, I mean. . .um, that sounds fine, and um, not too short in the back, ok?`
`You got it!` And he went into action this time with the attachment on his trusty clippers. He worked on the haircut for what seemed hours. He finished, spun me around and I looked at myself in the mirror.
`Everything ok, Man?`
I was so disappointed. Why couldn`t he just have done the same thing to me as he had done to the other two without me asking him? He seemed so ruthless when he was cutting the kid`s hair. And why was I such a coward? I smiled, got out of the chair and paid him.
I thought about how Gary had laughed at me and said I wouldn`t be able to go through with it as I drove over to his place. When I got there the first thing he said was that he thought I was going to get a haircut. I said, I had. `Yeah, yeah.` He shot me this disapproving look and then told me to take my clothes off. I was a little confused but the order came with such authority that I did what I was told without resistance. Was the nude swimming to begin here and now?
He disappeared into the kitchen while I was undressing. I stripped down to only my boxers and then joined him. He motioned to the barstool. I moved toward it and sat down. I looked around the room and saw nothing out of the ordinary. He stood behind me. `So, what`s up? Why all the suspense?`
He looked down at me as a shiny object emerged from behind his back. I heard this whizzing sound and then felt the cold metal object rest on my forehead. It roared into operation at full force ripping across the top of my head. It felt wild. My stomach was doing flip turns. I was both petrified and exhilarated. He continued to thrust it front to back. Hair went flying everywhere. He then attacked the sides. The sideburns were gone before I knew it. I couldn`t believe what was happening. He was actually buzzing my head. I was ready to burst. This was esxactly what I had fantasized about for years only better. He pushed my head forward and secured it with one hand as he maneuvered the clippers with the other all the way up the back of my head and then across the top again. He was out of control. Wow, what an awesome sensation.
The clippers soon fell silent. It was all over. My heart was racing. It felt like the room was spinning around me. I ran my hand across the top of my head and started to get up. `Not so fast!` Still dazed I glanced up and saw that he was now shaking a can of shave cream above my head.
`Na, huh! NO! NO! This is fine. OK! Fantasy over! You can stop now.`
He would hear none of it. `Just sit there until I tell you to get up!` Again I obeyed. What had come over me? He covered my scalp with the shave cream and proceeded to shave my head. He was slow and meticulous. The thrill of having Gary run the razor over my scalp was overwhelming. He grabbed a towel when the task was completed and wiped off my now bald head. `Now you can get up.` I scratched my head and looked over my shoulder at him. `And that, Dude, is a haircut!`
He walked out of the kitchen and left me there alone, completely stupified. He returned within a few seconds wearing only his boxers, shoved me off the stool and handed me the shave cream. `You don`t think I`m going nude swimming with you wearing less than me, do you?`