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Jason by Moc



I had just settled on a bar stool and was enjoying a pint of Bass ale when a young fellow in his early 20s took up residence next to me. A lanky lad wearing blue jeans, boots, and a long sleeved white Henley shirt; he was distinguished by a thick thatch of curly, dark brown hair, that cascaded to the middle of his shoulder blades.

"Mike,” he called to the bartender, "a shot of JD.”

"Here you go Jason,” said the bartender as he poured a shot, which was quickly downed. "Give me another, and a pint of Guiness.” said Jason.

The bartender poured the shot and as he was pouring the beer, he asked, "What's up? Did you and Nicole have a fight?”

"Yeah, she told me that I don't understand women! What the hell?!?” exclaimed Jason. I turned to him and said, "What exactly happened?” Jason proceeded to explain that his girlfriend had rented the movie Last of the Mohicans, for about the fifth time, and wanted him to watch it with her. "She thinks it's romantic as hell, but I wanted to watch the football game. Then when I asked her about going to a Halloween party, she told me I don't' understand women!”

After drinking in silence for about ten minutes, I asked him, "Do you love her?” "Hell, yeah! I'd do anything to make her happy, " said Jason. "OK, I've got an idea, finish your beer and take a walk down the street with me.” Jason nodded his head and followed me out of the bar. We walked down the street about two and half blocks and turning the corner, entered a shop. Frank's Barbershop is one of those barbershops like every town had thirty years ago.

"If you want to keep your girlfriend Nicole, get in the chair, " I ordered Jason. Jason reluctantly sat down. Frank, who's about fifty, had a smirk on his face as he put a cape on Jason. "What's it to be?” he asked as he swung the chair away from the mirror. I said, "This is Jason, Nicole wants Uncas the Mohican.” Frank grinned as he snapped on the clippers and began mowing.

Jason's eyes widened in disbelief as the clippers drove relentlessly into his thick mane of hair. In under ten minutes, Frank had cropped Jason to the bone, except for a strip of hair about two inches wide from forehead to nape of the neck. As the clippers fell silent, Jason gazed at a mound of hair in his lap, with a look of shock. Frank lathered up Jason's head and after about fifteen minutes, he had stripped away the stubble, revealing a perfect pate. With a little hair gel, Jason's thick hair stood straight up. Frank trimmed the crest to about four inches tall and then swung the chair around. "There you go Jason, you're now Uncas the Mohican!” said Frank with a grin. Jason rubbed his heads over his scalp and felt his Mohawk-style crest, with a look of disbelief. Jason kept looking in the mirror as I handed Frank a twenty. "Hang on a second, I've got an idea, " said Frank as he started fishing around in a drawer. He found a rubber band, bent to the floor to retrieve a fistful of fifteen inch locks which had adorned Jason's head an hour earlier. He tied them on one end and handed them to Jason saying, "Here you go lad, every Mohican warrior needs a scalp at his belt.”

Jason followed me from the barbershop into the brisk fall air. "One more stop!” I announced. Half-way back to the bar was a sporting goods store that also had army surplus goods. We walked to the back of the store and when the sales clerk came over, I told her to fit Jason with a pair of soft sole moccasins. While Jason was finding a pair of mocs, I gathered a surplus navy blue wool blanket, black latigo boot laces, and four packs of black camouflage face paint. I paid for the mocs and the other items, handed the sack to Jason and said, "Time for a beer!”

When we returned to the bar, Mike the bartender clapped Jason on the back, "Great looking ‘hawk man, Nicole will love it!” Jason sat at the bar, drinking a Guinness as he rubbed his hand over his smooth scalp alongside his Mohawk, "Oh my god, Nicole will kill me!”

"Jason, you're going to go home and cut a ten inch wide strip from the blue blanket, that's your new breechclout. Strip down and secure the clout with one of the laces, Mohican's weren't hairy, so lose the chest hair. Use the black camouflage to paint your face, chest, arms, and legs, just like in the movie, Last of the Mohicans. Put on the mocs, and tie your "scalp” to your belt, then go over to Nicole's place.” I said, " I'll meet you for a beer the Friday after Halloween. You can tell me how it goes with Nicole.” As Jason left, Mike the bartender came over and handed me a fresh beer, "This one's on me.” he said with a grin.

The bar was packed on Friday night. As I wound my way to bar, I noticed Jason talking to a group of people. He was wearing a gray t-shirt, blue jeans, his new mocs, and had an arm around a stunning, long-legged blonde. I nodded and gave him a thumbs-up gesture when he looked over at the bar. Half way through my beer, I felt a hand on my arm, and turned to look into sparkling blue eyes. "Hi, I'm Nicole!” Behind her stood Jason. "Jason told me you turned him into Uncas the Mohican. Thank you!” As Nicole briefly departed, I cast a quizzical look at Jason. "Thanks, you were right, Nicole loves the Mohican! She is like a cat in heat!” Jason admitted, "She told me she is going to keep me shaved! What the hell, I love her!” he said with a shrug of the shoulders.

Nicole returned and grabbed Jason's arm, "Come on, my friend Andrea wants you to convince her boyfriend Mike to get a Mohawk like yours!” As I watched Nicole and Jason / Uncas the Mohican talking to a petite brunette and a young man with a shock of thick blonde hair , I smiled with the knowledge that Frank's Barbershop would soon be busy.




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