A Healing Haircut by Flat4Ever

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Several months ago I retired from the U.S. Army. I always thought that it would be a very proud and happy occasion, but it turned out to be a very painful experience. I had planned on serving for serving 20+ years on Active Duty, but I was medically retired at the end of 15 years with more physical and psychological injuries than I care to list. I tried my best to cover my injuries in the Army for as long as I could out of simple selfish pride – I did not want to admit that anything was wrong or that I needed anyone else's help (sadly this is true for too many of our service members).

I am 6'3” and at my peak in the Army I was 185 pounds and was a "PT (physical training) stud and kept my hair cut weekly in a shaved high and tight. Now I can no longer run or do anything high impact due to numerous back injuries. Between the back injuries, PTSD, and depression my weight had climbed just shy of 300 pounds. I was ballooning up in weight; I was depressed and had gotten rather shaggy in the process of letting my life fall apart. Thankfully I have a wife who loves me too much to let me stay like this. She kindly told me I need to get off my ass and get moving, and I did.

I started walking short distances each day and slowly increased my distances as my weight started to come down. I walk my subdivision, past a small, empty strip mall up the park where I do several laps and then head back home. I'm currently up to 8-10 miles a day and have already walked off close to 35 pounds. I was so excited a few weeks ago to see that a barbershop was being built out in one of the units in the strip mall. It was fun to walk past every day and watch the progress of the shop. One day when walking by, there was a guy in front of the shop with two beautifully restored barber's chairs in the back of his pick up. He called out to me, "hey buddy, could you help me unload these. My brother was supposed to be here by now to help and as you can see, he is not.” I told him how much I really wanted to help but could not put that strain on my back. He extended his hand and replied, "I totally understand. No problem. My name is Mark. I've seen you walk by every day checking the shop out. Whadda ya think?” "My name is Russell. It looks awesome. Is this gonna be a two-chair shop?” Mark told me that he and his twin brother were opening the shop together. We talked for 20 minutes about the shop and my retirement, and my efforts to lose weight and regain some sense of pride in myself when Mark's brother, Dave showed up. They were identical twins but very easy to tell apart – Mark had shaved his head bald and Dave had a shaved horseshoe flattop. It looked really good. I wound spending the rest of the day there at the shop with the brothers helping out with little things and getting to know them.

For the next week or so, I found myself hanging out at their shop helping them out with little tasks and doing runs to the hardware store and food runs while they got the shop ready for their grand opening. Their shop looked amazing. It was a true old-fashioned barbershop. The afternoon before their opening the brothers called me in to the shop. I thought they just wanted to show it off and celebrate before the opening. I was right, but there was more. I walked up to the door and knocked on the glass and Mark came to the door and let me in and then locked up behind me.

Mark was just finishing up on Dave's weekly horseshoe flattop. We chatted as Mark lathered and shaved his brother's head with and against the grain until it was completely smooth. Dave got out of the chair and pulled a bottle of Fireball from his workstation and poured a shot for the three of us. We toasted the success of the shop, and then had a second shot. Mark said, "Russell, we really appreciated your service to our country and all that you have done the last couple of weeks to help us get our shop ready. We want to say thank you and would be honored if you would be our first customer.” This was an offer that I could not and would not refuse. Mark patted the back of his chair signaling for me to have a seat. He wrapped the tissue around my neck and then put the barber cape on (it looked just like the one O remember at the barbershop when I was a little boy).

Mark asked me how I wanted him to cut it. I told him that I had a shaved high and tight when I was in the Army (and now it was grown out business cut with a part on the left and about four inches long on top). "Mark, I'm completely in your hands. You and Dave have become good friends. I trust you. You know I'm trying to restore a part of my former self, so feel free to do whatever you want. What would you suggest?” "Well, I've noticed you checking out Dave's flattop on more than one occasion. How about a flattop like that?” I told Mark that I had tried a flattop while in the Army, "most barbers were too afraid to cut it too short and I had several tell me that I did not have a good head or hair for a flattop. If you can make it work, then go for it. Mark combed my hair and walked around me a couple of times and then said, "One - I am not most barbers. Two - I am NOT afraid to cut it short. Three – you have a great head for a flattop. And four – you've got a good little bald spot going on back here. The flattop is great camouflage for that. And five…” he picked up his clippers, brushed them off, sprayed them with a little oil, and then set to work on the right side of my head. I was really glad to see that he did not use vacuum clippers. He started at my sideburn and pushed the clippers up to my temple, and with a flick of the wrist a large clump of my hair fell to my lap. Mark took his time working his way around my head, being careful to deposit as much of my hair as possible in my lap. Mark got to the back of my head and reached out with both hands to straighten and steady my head. He started the clippers at the base of the skull and ran them up to and well beyond the crown of my head. This shocked me a bit. He pushed the clippers up and stopped just past the front of my ears. "I guess I am getting a haircut like Dave's.” Mark replied, "Nope, yours is gonna be shorter.” "Well alright then.” Dave finished removing the hair from the sides and back of my head, and then took his scissors and removed some of the bulk from the top before spraying what was left and using the hair dryer to get it to stand up.

He made a couple of quick passes and got it flat, and then took his time making pass after pass and he brushed, cut and shortened it up. This process took several minutes. I was honestly surprised that there was anything left for him to cut, but with each pass, more hair fell onto the cape. He stopped to inspect his work, and brushed some pomade into my hair and used the hair dryer again to get it standing straight up. Mark made a few more passes getting the hair cut in perfect precision with a wide strip down the middle of my head. He loosened the cape and tucked a towel into the neck of my shirt and rubbed my head with pre-shave oil while he warmed some towels. He then wrapped my head in a hot towel, and it felt so good. I thought I would melt. He let it sit for a minute and removed it and lathered up my head with shaving cream and then wrapped it with another hot towel. OMG! After a minute he removed that towel and lathered my head again and then shaved it with the grain with a straight razor. He then lathered my head once again, to include this long strip running down the middle of my head, and shaved my head again, this time going against the grain. He with his right hand and with a wet left hand felt around for any spots that he missed and quickly smoothed them out. The strangest sensation was having the center of the top of my head shaved out, but it felt great.

Once he was satisfied, he wiped my head off, and re-caped me so he could blend in the hairline. It did not take him long to finish this step, when he spun me around to show me his work. Mark asked, "your thoughts?” I replied, "well, you were right, you are NOT afraid to cut it short. Mark, this looks and feels great. I know this may sound stupid, but you don't know just how much an awesome haircut like this has done in lifting my spirits. I still have a ways to go to get to where I want to be, but this is a HUGE step in the right direction.”

I took out my wallet to pay him, and Mark said, "you WILL come in here every seven days for a haircut, and you will not pay for a haircut here until you get to your target weight. I don't expect this free haircut thing to last for more than two or three months. I'm gonna be riding you to make sure that you are making progress.” I extended my hand and said, "you've got a deal.”

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