Disaster at the barbers by MarcustheBald16

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Pleasant summer morning. Nobody home. Holiday next week.

Mark was ready for a casual morning walk up to the gym,ambiguous on his desire for sport and fitness. However,jogging up the road nearest to the gym,with it being a Fahrenheit value beginning with eight,he was absolutely sweltering. Anaerobic respiration with the pre-packaged oxygen debt came gravely and rapidly to his boy,vasodilation so apparent that he literally stood out like a saw thumb alongside the bone-dry grass and luscious green trees and his relatively prized hair,streaked blonde with numerous exposures,was like a sponge.

With all such effects,he consciously decided to stride up to his nearest barbers and get a bit of a trim. Building up the momentum again,getting to a barber of at least ten minutes drive in around twenty minutes,he found a new barber shop which he decided to experiment on. By the time he got there,he was a sweaty mess to be reckoned with.

Head being sun-struck by the high and constant heat alongside almost crippling UV levels,never mind the fact hair had a low specific heat capacity,meaning the flesh covering his cranium was almost as crisp as frying bacon,he lay down on the couch,only slightly peeping at the other teenage boy who had just walked in with an undercut.

Almost dozing off,he listened to the intellect being used.
"Alright Melvin,what do you want?"
"Can you take it all off"
Mark's heart racing viciously,he shut his eyes in repulse. For while he pretended in school to be rather condescending on people with short hair at school,the honest truth is that while he could never muster up the courage to do such a bold act,he wondered how he would look if he loosened up,allow his hair to flow across the floor and rub the sandpapery utopia maintained on his cranium. A stimulus of incessant tears and I desire to slam myself in front of a car over his repulsive act;Turned around,maybe a stimulus of irresistible rubbing and a desire to expose the new phenomenon to current and uneventful stimulus-provoking sheer joy.

Rather sleepy from his ordeal,he lay almost unconscious,although enough to hear the consistent buzzing. With such a melody to tune his thoughts to,he did so. He weighed up the many ‘negatives' of having a buzzcut. The simple fact he may have incomprehensibly unideal cranium size.The fact his mates,the soul provider of his humour and the glucose for his unhinged love for all things sport,particularly football,may be vehemently against him now. The fact he absolutely adored his hair;streaked like freshly-harvested hay alongside the fertile ground that was the majority of his hair;able to be styled in numerous different ways.

The thoughts got him more of a stigma,a bit more resistance to sit down in the chair. The other boy was mostly gone,the ‘mostly' because of the vast canopy of thick,brown hair that covered the floor,which may have well just have been splashes of some miracle elixir that came in through your feet and eradicated your hair follicles by the way Mark tried relentlessly now to touch it and despite the excessive heat,he was now shivering like mad and his skin,once red from large-scale vasodilation,now constricted and left him as white as his swimming trunks(exposed endlessly to the highly chlorinated local pool,leaving them bleached).

"Hello sir" he announced in a way that sounded normal,but probably had a tinge of fear.
The barber,barely months let alone years older than Mark(who was sixteen),combed down his moderately-grown fringe and signalled Mark to give an answer on the type of haircut.
"Do a grade two on the sides,then just scissor the top"
Resolute,the meticulous barber took out a massive set of clippers. After a quick snap of the clippers to fit the guard on,with Mark vehemently shivering,he ploughed the clippers down the back of his cranium. Deeply relaxing. Mark absolutely loved the clippers,he loved the way they made such a clean and handsome boundary and the way that the gentle heat was strangely hypnotic.

Not wanting to be anti-social,there was typical barbers chat going on.
"Sure is hot out,isn't it"
"Certainly is,I absolutely hate it"
"Ever considered getting a full on skinhead like Tommy did just then"
The lack of vocals and obviously inappropriate movement of the cranium alerted him this was not the case.
"Ah ok mate,fair enough the buzz cut is not for everyone,though saying that it is not uncommon"
Almost simultaneously,Mark felt what felt unusual on his head. He jolted his head towards the mirror and tears started to pour out like a cracked watering can.
For the barber had shaved about a centimetre of what was supposed to be his major style off!

Mark burst up off the seat and ran bawling to the sofa,while not taking his hand off the new stubble that was his beautiful hair. His beautiful hair. For a minute,he tried to thump the negative thoughts out and tried to instead bring out potential positives. Failing to succumb to any,he blundered back into the chair and sulked like a toddler.

"Take it all to a grade two" he muttered,his teeth chattering relentlessly.

He shut his eyes and let the hair be felt as it unleashed his cranium,thinking he was going to look hideous. Buzz.Buzz.Buzz. While he still had the gloomy mindset of thinking he would look bloody awful,he actually rather liked the extended utilisation of the clippers,like I said earlier he loved the feel. The new territory came with new surprises:it felt fresh,having lost all the sweaty mess that he conjured this morning;it was strangely hypnotic and when the barber gave his hair was rub,words couldn't describe his feeling of desire.

"Sorry I blotched your hair,would you like it free or not." Mark decided he would decide when you could force open his eyes,which were almost locked shut by his burning fear of what was to come. Weak,he got up blind.
Suddenly though,the nostalgic bell of the barber shop rung and pretty much simultaneously,a voice said "I really like the look on your previous client,I could consider getting a cut similar to this baking heat"

It was one of his mates,Shaun. Reflexly,he turned his head in the direction of the voice.
"Come on mate,it looks awesome,wouldn't mind having a mate like that"
Dumbstruck at the lack of recognition by his friend,his eyes still lay bolted shut.
"Shaun,Mark here didn't want such a drastic cut,but I accidentally made a mess"
It was then that Shaun realised I was the one that was shorn.
"Good grief Mark,it is a tremendous shock to see you with such a clean cut,but it really does suit you and we will all understand."
Shaun vehemently rubbed my head,making me smile broadly.
Reluctantly,I opened my eyes. Good grief Shaun was right. In fact,the sharp,clean cut fit my physique much better than that mass of sweaty,shaggy hair that once resided.
"Come on Marky Warky,lets align our haircuts and go to the pool"

Needless to say,I paid the bill.I adored the cut,and so did Shaun.

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