Jerry's father by Oraj

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Jerry's father
This story is from 1975 and I was 14 years old. In this period, the boys loved the hair that covered their ears and was across the shirt collar. Only boys whose parents were too conservative or had strict rules at school had shorter hair.
When I was a kid, I used to go with my father and my brother two years older for a regular short haircut. From the age of 8 we fought with our father for our hair. We argued that nobody in our class had hair short enough to see his ears. Finally, we had a mother's stand, and then she used to take us to her hairdresser, who did a little hair adjustment.
I had a very good friend, Jerry, with whom I spent a lot of free time. He had beautiful long blond hair that touched his shoulders and was envied by many girls. One Friday Jerry was with us when his angry father came to him and ordered him to get in the car to go to the barber. What my father immediately responded to that I could go with them when we were such good friends. Jerry's father had nothing against it, I protested first, but then I was overcome by curiosity and I wanted to see Jerry at the barber, so I finally agreed. My father gave me the money.
On the way in the car, we were all silent, not surprisingly, at the modern barber salon but at the old-fashioned barbershop Marcus. When we entered, there was only one barber's chair, where a 60-year-old barber cut an elderly man. About 7 years old boy with mother sat on waiting chairs. We sat down. Jerry's father went to the barber, told him he couldn't stay with us, so he paid in advance. He handed him a note and pointed toward us and said aloud: For punishment, my son needs a proper boy's hairstyle. The barber looked at us, bowed to Jerry's father several times and announced that he would certainly be happy.
I asked Jerry what punishment it was? What he did. He sadly said his mother found cigarettes in his pants.
A moment later the barber called another and the mother led her son to the barber chair. The son begged his mother on the way because he did not want a short hairstyle. The mother whispered something to the barber and he started with the boy's hair. When he was done, the boys' hairstyle was very similar to mine when I was his age. About 1 inch around his ears had white skin and then gradually stubble and hair to the top of the head extended at the top of the head had about 2 inch hair ..
Next please, exclaimed the barber. Jerry went first to the barber's chair. He tossed a white sheet over it, combed his hair, then lifted it with a comb and shortened it with scissors. Jerry stared in the mirror with sad eyes, staring at his transformation. So far his hair was longer than mine. The barber tilted Jerry's head to the left and the electric scissors sounded. I began to think about asking for my hair to be cut because I was never alone with a barber or hairdresser. That's why I started looking at pictures of different hairstyles of boys and men. But on either of them I didn't see anyone covered their ears with their hair. On the contrary, they were short hairstyles. I'll tell him little to edit ......
I look toward the barber. I couldn't recognize Jerry's head. He had only a stubble around his entire head and about ½ inch long blond hair at the top of his head. When the barber brushed his hair around the collar, I thought Jerry would be free. Similarly, Jerry himself was in it, he was seen waiting for that order to quickly leave this chair. Only the barber's hand pushed him back on the chair. He then applied white foam to his hips and back of the head, which he then removed with a razor. When the barber finished his work, he stood with a mirror in his hand behind Jerry. He began to cry as he saw his drastic haircut. I was glad to see this degrading change. From a boy with gorgeous blond hair, there was a child with a military haircut. I also regretted him because I knew he would be ridiculed at school.
Before Jerry had the chance to jump off the chair, the barber called: Next please. I knew I would have a little shorter hair than my mother's hairdresser, but finally I would have longer hair than Jarry. Along the way we exchanged views. He tears in his eyes and I smiled at him with a nasty smile, as I would suggest to him: Look how a teenage boy's hair looks like.
I courageously sat on a chair, the barber tossed a white sheet over me, combed my hair, and I was just waiting for his question: How will it be today? Instead, the barber pressed my head to the left until my ear touched my shoulder. The sound of the electric scissors started, and by the time I could react, the cold metal passed from my face to the top of my head. The only thing I could do was NIEEEE. But I've lost another hairline. The more the barber cut me, the more I was sure I wouldn't have much longer hair than Jerry. The barber swapped scissors at # 3.75, pushed my head back and the cold metal teeth touched my forehead and walked a few times on top of my head. Panic seized me looking at the mirror. I didn't know what to do. I'd love to run and run away. When the barber applied the white foam around my head I could only scream: Please not the razor. The barber responded with a stern voice: Silence, sit still! Helplessly, I was spinning my head as the barber tilted it and felt a sharp scraping of the razor around my head. When he wiped away the remnants of the foam with the towels and made minor adjustments, I had the opportunity to see my white skin on the perimeter of my head in the mirror.
When he set me free from this torture chair, I went to pay. But the barber just puzzled. You're not together? You came from your father at once. He left enough money for the other two hairstyles. I put my money in my pocket. The barber handed Jerry the phone number paper and said he was kindly asking his father to call him.
We were both shocked from our short haircut and walked to the bus stop without a word. On the bus, I hear the voice of a woman saying, Look, these are the barbers boys brought by their father to have them cut for punishment. I turned to make sure it was the boy with his mother. I was right ... If you don't listen, you get the same hairstyle! The boy replied that he would listen, because he didn't want the same hairstyle we have.
Upon arriving at Jerry's house, his father told him his punishment had not ended. I guess he'll get a good ass when I leave, I thought. Jerry handed his father a ticket from the barber and he called him. We only heard snippets of conversation when my father said: Yes, I am extremely satisfied .... will he grow in 1/2 inch in 4 weeks? ..... discount? ... valid coupon? .......
When I got home, my father praised me for my hairstyle saying he was proud of me. Even my mom praised me, only at the evenings I got my first humiliation, right from my brother. And when you start the war ... because you have an original military hairstyle .... brother, today boys do not wear this ...... tell anyone that you are my brother, they will laugh at me! ...... .that the father could not stand anymore and began to shout at his brother ...... his last sentence was: You will regret what you said and sent both of them to bed.
I couldn't sleep all night, shaking my head and thinking about the reactions between my friends and school. How long will I be waiting for my hair to grow back, but what is Jerry's sentence yet ...

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