YOU'RE LYING by 1jarino

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YOU'RE LYING
I was born in 1961 and, as I grew, I kept my hair the way most other boys did to keep them as long as possible. The story is from the beginning of the school year when I was 14 years old.
I had long hair that covered my ears and shirt collar, covering my eyes to the tip of my nose. But at about the age of 12, I read a magazine where there were historical photographs of boys of about 50 years with short hairstyles in the back of the head and hips, and some were completely hairless. These pictures attracted me a lot and I often imagined what it is like when a barber makes a boy so short haircut. But I never took the courage to try something like that and still went to a modern barber shop.
Once at the age of 14, I walked around an old-fashioned barber shop when a mother with a 7-year-old son who really had very short hair and a fairly large part of his head lit up with white skin came out of it. I was bewitched by the boy's fresh hair and I watched them for a while and kept my eyes on his head. I was delighted when I met the boy the next day at my school I still admired his short haircut.
One day after school, I saw a boy asking his mom that he didn't want to go to the barber, but his mom took his hand and went to the bus stop. I watched them from a safe distance and got on the same bus. They got off at a bus stop not far from the barber shop, where I saw them for the first time. I watched them from a safe distance and saw them entering the barbershop. I was hypnotized and did not realize that I had entered the barbershop. The barber cut the elderly man and when he saw me, he interrupted his work and said to me: You may not be right here, I do not make modern cuts. Then I realized where I entered. I gasped and said in a stuttering voice: I know, but my father sent me here for punishment. Then you're good here. Sit there and wait for your turn to come. I sat on the designated wooden chair in the corner. I began to realize my situation and wondered how to get out of it. I got an idea, so I got up and headed for the door saying I forgot my money at home. But the barber put me back on the chair saying that I would bring him the money for the haircut the next day. I sat on a chair and thought about negotiating with a barber so that I couldn't get a short hairstyle. Immersed in my own thoughts, I didn't notice the surroundings. Only when an older gentleman slams into my head. By then the boy and his mom had left the barbershop and I hadn't seen his haircut. When I took a seat in the barber's chair, I told him my hairstyle wasn't going to be too short and I wanted to tell him my requirements. But he stopped me to sit quietly and he already knows what to do. He wrapped me in a white sheet and combed my hair. Then he picked up the hair on the right side of the ridge and walked the comb with the electric scissors. The first 20 cm of hair fell on the sheet. When I saw my right ear without hair I began to realize how humiliating it is. When my hair was truncated all over my head, I wanted to jump out of my chair. But the barber grabbed my shoulder and pushed me back into the chair. Now sit down properly if you don't want to go totally scaled. He pushed my head forward and smelled the cold metal of the sharp scissors on my neck, rising up the back of my head and still falling my hair long enough. I felt a trembling, not knowing if it was the vibrations of the scissors or I was shaking from fear what would happen next. The barber tilted my head on the left tent and placed the scissors above my cheeks and climbed up. The barber bent my ear and made an arc over it with scissors, and I saw a 3-inch white leather arc in the mirror. The same thing he did on the other becomes heads. I was excited and full of expectations but also incredibly humiliated. He then took the comb and scissors to gradually adjust the length of the hair to the top of the head. The barber truncated the hair on the top of his head, combing it forward and cut the call. I could see almost my entire forehead. As he brushed the scalp on the neck and around the sheet, I was about to jump off the barber's chair, but the barber applied a white cream to his neck and ears and scraped it off with a razor blade. After releasing the white sail and from the chair I thanked and promised to bring money
I ran home, examining my hair cut on the back of my head. I wanted to see it in the mirror as soon as possible. When I got home I met my father. I wanted to explain my new hairstyle so I told him it was a bet at school, but that I would need money to pay the barber. My father is enthusiastically praising my hair, of course he will pay for it, but he has to leave now for other duties. Before going to school, I was looking for money from my father so I could pay my debt to the barber, but I couldn't find it. My father probably forgot about it.
The next day at school, however, my classmates weren't so happy with my hairstyle and on the contrary, they laughed at my hairstyle. I could not wait to finish the lessons. After school, my father waited for me at school. Smiling, he told me we were going to pay for my haircut. After arriving at the barber shop, the barber told his father. I know you sent your son here for punishment, but if he still has long hair, I'll shorten it according to your instructions. My father paused for a moment, but then asked how long it would take for my hair to be cut again. What the barber replied that in 3 weeks I will have about a centimeter longer. For example, one lady like this started dating regularly with her sons. Because the barber did not have any customer they had a long discussion with his father ........

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