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The Urge (part 3) by tightcutoz


(cont from part 2)

i cant’ believe i have a flattop

every step i take, i can feel the difference
i feel more mature and manly
i feel better

and my head feels colder despite the fact its summer and hot out

‘one warning, you will need to wear sunscreen if you’re not wearing a hat. head burn from the sun is no fun, take it from me’ dad says

‘um yeah ok’ i say

‘im not joking’ dad says solemnly

as we walk towards the car i have a thought: ‘so you didn’t want a cut dad?’i say

‘its only been a week’ he replies shaking his head ‘its probably not quite time yet.’

‘next time’ he continuous ‘ you have done the hard part going back is going to be a breeze’

‘ha ha yeah, it’s good’ i say

‘and it’s what you wanted? dad says

‘yeah. pretty much’ i say

‘whats that mean’

‘i don’t know, i guess it’s just pretty much want i wanted’

‘you would have liked to have kept a bit more hair?’

‘oh…no…not that. maybe in fact shorter even. but no, it’s just new. its fine’ i say shaking my head

‘you wanted shorter?’ dad says suddenly stops walking

‘oh…no…its great how it is’ i touch the back again

‘if you want it shorter, now is the time to head back’ he says

‘i dont know really. maybe next time?’ i say

there is silence

‘what do you think?’ i ask

dad seems to stare off into the distance

‘well…..lets go back’

my heart rate picks up

dad doesn’t even wait for my response, but starts to walk back

so i follow, what else am i to do?

i catch up to him and he puts an arm around my shoulders

again we stop at the interface of the shop, and i step through the door.

the barber is there at the counter on his phone when I step through, followed shortly by my father.

‘uh i told you to bring him back in 2 weeks? has it really been that quiet here in the shop?
dad slips he arm from my should and again puts his hands on my shoulders

‘luke is very happy with the haircut - but he’s wondering if it could be a little shorter?’

‘is that right lad?’ the barber enquires

‘….um yeah’

‘it’s plenty short now’ he says slowly

‘yes, i know’ i reply

‘sure well then, take a seat’ he says, hand pointing towards the chair.

i take a seat, and looking at myself in the mirror with my new haircut

‘so what were you thinking then?’ he asks

i’m silent and thinking

but dad pipes up ‘ a proper military flattop.’ a smile across his face

i gulp. but say nothing

what have i gotten myself into??

‘well ok young man. I'm surprised yet impressed.’

the cape is thrown over the top of me and secured tightly

the chair is raised in height

"ok just going to take the side and back off, ok?" the barber says

"um…yeah" i murmur

my head is again pushed down into my chest with a firm hand

There is suddenly a buzzing, higher pitched than before, more like a whirr

The sound gets closer to my head and the touches at the nape of my neck and slowly moves up the back

A few more passes and my head is released

I look in the mirror but cannot see anything different yet

A hand grips my forehead and tilts my head slightly, but i can still see a bit under the hand

the clippers get even louder close to my left ear and touch just in front, and start their movement upwards

this time i can see the hair being sheared off and falling onto the cape. it does not look like much hair is being left behind, but i cannot clearly see - just the constant waterfall of fragments of hair falling onto the cape and then sliding down to my lap

A few more passes up the side of my head and around my ear, and my head is released so the barber can move around to the right.

His hands again grip my forehead and my head gets twisted slightly and now i have a better view of whats been done to the left: it’s been buzzed down to the skin, with just stubble left behind. i grip the hand reset of the chair even harder and swallow - this is really happeing. my eyes flick to my father sitting on the bench by the wall: he’s paying close attention to what is happening.

the burring clippers again move closed to my ear and then make contact, sliding slowly ever upwards towards the crown. more hair trickles down as the clippers do their work around on the right.

finally the clippers are switched off, and the barber dusts off the hair.

the barber bushes the top a few time and then the clippers are switched back on - it looks like the top is going shorter too.

he lines up a comb and clippers small fragments off. it’s hard to judge how much, but i stay perfectly still. this continues for about 5 minutes, the clippers slipping every closer to my scalp in small steps.

"and to take the landing strip down a bit, just don’t move ok" the barber murmers

i feel the clippers buzzing away in the centre of my head, almost making contact with the scalp but not quite.

The clippers go quiet as the barber looks all over, moving my head this way and that. They start up again briefly as he shears some stray hairs down but eventually are put back in the hold on the bench.

I get ready to be able to get up when suddenly my head i again pushed forwards into my chest.

"now for the razor boy-o" and with that the barber switches on another little machine which he quickly starts rubbing into the back of my exposed head

Up and down, up and down the buzzing continues

‘you’re using a razor….?’

‘yes a little electric one’ the barber says, and he releases my head momentarily and hold it out so i can see - it’s a little maroon and gold shaver, like what you would use to shave your face

Two seconds later he starts up again, gripping my head and rubbing away with the buzzing machine

"perfectly smooth" the barber says as he rubs a thumb up the nape of my neck towards the crown

the barber continues towards the left and my head is release enough that i can watch him working away, balding the side of my head. I watch intently, amazed that this is happening at all.

And then on to the right, where the process is repeated, the razor rubbed against my scalp all the way to the crown.

As the machine is switched off the barber grabs a towel and rubs down my head.

My dad stands up and moves closer, he takes a few pictures with his phone "smile son"

my smile i’m sure is crooked, but i try at least as he takes a few pictures.

putting the phone away he reaches to rub the back of my head, and i almost purr with pleasure.

"that is one sleek haircut!" he says

as dad steps back, the barber slips the cape off, and shakes the hair from the cape to the ground

my heads reach up hesitantly to touch my head: just smooth skin in front of my ear, and it goes around the back. i’ve never felt something like this before, it feels amazing.

i stand up and turn my head to the left and the right. i feel so masculine compared to earlier, and as afraid as i was of doing this, i’m happy i made the decision.

"on the house" the barber says with a brief smile

"but you have to come back in 2 weeks time, ok"

"yes sir" i say quietly, still distracted by my haircut.

"i’m very proud of you. but come on son, we should head off’ dad says

we both walk toward the door and out into the heat of the day.












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