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Max by burrlypup

I'm a grad student, live in DC and work part time at a home improvement shop, the one with a big orange sign.

When I started going to Max I was a junior in college, just turned 21, and had a floppy head of hair. Think 90's hair, parted down the center and almost touching my chin, but wavy. Max eased me into a short back and sides the first cut, which was a major change - I lost a good 5 inches all over, and for the first time ever bare clippers were used to taper my nape. He used a #3 which left the sides bristly, and even as I felt shorn, I instantly craved a shorter cut. My next visit, a Friday afternoon, I asked him to take the sides up a bit shorter.

"I'll have to cut it a bit higher and trim the top so it's proportional - is that okay?" He asked, sensing my hesitation, but more than willing to take it down a notch.

"Sure, I trust your judgement." I recall saying back to him. I enjoyed having him cut my hair, Max is a handsome fellow and there was something about his army haircut that made me want to stick around, even if it meant a shorter cut. Max pulled out three metal clips.

"This will leave you with a quarter inch, this one an eighth of an inch, and one sixteenth with this one," he continued.

"What do you use on your sides?" I asked Max, who was taken aback by my question, rubbing the smooth sides of his cut.

"A straight edge razor and hot lather, I do it every morning." Max explained. "It's a commitment, I'd have to take a bit more off the top for it to look right."

"Let's do it." I heard myself saying, regretting it a bit, but resolute in my decision.

"Don't have to ask me twice." Max winked at me and I heard the clippers start to hum low. Instead of his slow, calculated cuts, Max went into induction cut mode. I felt the clippers purring as he pushed them over my forehead. The sensation of having my head clipped was so intense, my face and ears were red and I was burning up despite the air conditioning running full blast. "Don't worry, you'll have enough left on top to comb back or spike my friend." Max told me as he rubbed the inch or so left on top and began tapering the sides tighter.

Soon, Max began the penultimate stage - clipping the sides of my head with his bare clippers. I shuddered as they scraped the sides of my head, taking off the #3 I already thought was short. As the clippers went silent, I could feel his bare hands caressing fresh buzz - and soon Max added a dollop of hot lather, covering the back and sides of my head, much higher than I thought he would.

Max drew his straight razor and began to shave the back of my head, starting high at the crown, and swiped down in a smooth yet slightly etching motion. He cleaned his razor on a towel placed over my shoulder, then took another swipe, with his free hand gripping my nape and head. I enjoyed it so much I debated whether or not to ask him to shave it all. Perhaps for another day, I thought, since I'd need something for him to cut my next visit.

After he shaved down both temples and over the ears, he wiped my sides down with a cold towel and rubbed in a minty tonic with both hands. He massaged my shaved sides for about five minutes - or was it five seconds? It stunned my senses.

After running a light, cream pomade through the top and using his fingers to smooth the top forward, Max turned the chair to face the mirror.

I didn't look like myself, and unfortunately I didn't exude the same macho look as Max. My disappointment showed, but I didn't want to leave on a sour note. "I was thinking it would look a bit more square, like yours." I said, choosing my words carefully as not to insult him.

"Oh? You like the flattop?" Max asked, perking up big time, though at the time I thought he was irritated.

"Yeah man, sorry I couldn't just say it first, but I really would like my hair cut just like yours." There! I got the words out and I would soon have the same cut as my handsome barber. Max flicked on his clippers, no guard, and I felt them run from my crown to the front, straight down the middle, and again, seemingly floating the clippers level to my head. He carefully pulled the clippers back across the top of my head - I knew it would be short on top, but on my head shape, the cut left a huge strip buzzed down the center of my head.

And soon, that strip was shaved bare as the sides.

Another cold towel caressed the top of my head, then massaged down the sides, followed by more aftershave.

"There you go, one horseshoe flattop, shaved strip and sides. That'll be ten bucks." Max said as he whipped off the cape. I was in a trance as I stood up, rubbed my head in the mirror and handed him two $20's and winked.

"Think I'll close shop early. Would you like to help me clean up? I'll pay you in beer." Max offered, stooping down and grabbing two cold ones out of his mini-fridge.

"Sure bud." I said, picked up a broom and swept up mostly my hair. I felt a cold bottle rub against my shorn nape, then turned around as Max handed me it. He locked his fingers in my belt buckle and smiled, using it to pop the cap off his beer. His hand lingered for an extended period.

"Knew it!" Max smiled, "Don't worry, your secret is my secret," he whispered as he rubbed my bulge then sat in the chair I'd just lost most of my hair in. I finally saw the top of his head. He was about 6-foot-5 so, and me 5-foot-11, so I took this rare opportunity to rub his landing strip, and mine at the same time. Max purred and pulled me on top of him.

An hour later, Max walked me out and handed me back my $40.

"You don't have to pay for cuts, drop in anytime." Max said as he shoved the bills into my pocket. "Well, as long as it's barbers choice," he said slyly.

I nodded and wrapped my arm around his muscular shoulder, and we took a long romantic walk to get a pizza. We did other fun things. For hours. I had to call in on Monday to be honest, but I'll leave that to your imagination.

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