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As the rain came by Storyteller

When I was 10 to 11 years old I broke my leg. So, by those days, my father was taking me and picking me up from school by car. I waited for him in front of a barbershop, which I did not go to as I was a client of a barber very close to home, which I went to with a frequency of 3 to 4 months, the barber was very friendly and only gave my hair a light trim. I had long hair like all the boys at school and in the neighborhood. Even so, I always greeted this other barber whose barbershop I was in front of waiting for my father. I have always been a good boy, a good student, very well educated and I have always treated adults and older people with respect.
On that specific day, classes ended early at school and at those days there was no cell phone so all I had to do was wait until the normal class time ended until my dad arrived. I arrived in front of the barbershop and sat on a counter where I used to wait for my father. The barber, who already knew what time I was waiting there, saw me and said "Hey, are you here earlier today?" I greeted him respectfully and said "Yes, sir, we didn't have the last class, now I have to wait until my dad arrives", he smiled and went back inside the barbershop. Then the sky darkened and immediately a very heavy rain began to fall. The barber came quickly to the door and said "Come here, son, you will get all wet and you will also wet the plaster on your leg". I accepted, went in and said: "Wow, thank you very much, sir, you are a very good man".
The barbershop was very different from the one I went to, it was also small, but it seemed lighter and cleaner. The barberchair was quite large and tall, with a red leather seat. There was a very large, very clean mirror. In front of the chair was a bench with the barber's equipment, all very organized. There were hooks on the wall and three clippers hung. I didn't really know what it was, as I had never seen, heard or felt clippers being used. The aroma in the barbershop was very good, it was a mixture of shaving foam, lotion, aftershave and talc.
The barber was a man of his 70 years old, totally bald, with a full white mustache. He was tall and looked like a strong man. There were no customers at the barbershop, then. The barber arranged a stool in front of the waiting chair for me to support my leg, I said, "Thank you, sir." He came to sit next to me and we started talking.
He asked my age, what year I was in school, how I had broken my leg and I answered everything politely. He commented that I was a very polite boy, that he had already noticed the way I greeted him when I expected my father and the way I treated my father. He also commented on my long hair, asked if my father didn't mind that I had my hair like that and I explained that since the age of eight my father allowed me to grow my hair in line with fashion and that I like having my hair like this. I asked about his baldness, if he had lost all his hair and he said no, that he shaved his head, and I was very surprised, because it looked like he had no hair and also because I would never imagine that someone having hair was to shave his head. I also commented that I thought his mustache was cool, because my grandfather, who died when I was very little, also had a mustache like that, very full. He smiled.
He then said to me "Son, even though you like the long hair, he seems to be already a little too long, and blunt. Wouldn't you like me to cut your hair a little? I'm out of customers now and your dad is going to be a long way off. " I thought a little and said "Okay" but I stopped and thought "But I don't have any money to pay you, sir, and I don't know if my dad comes with money", and he said "No problem, you pay me tomorrow when you're waiting for your dad "and I said "Okay".
He helped me to get to his barberchair, he lowered the lever so it would be at a very low height and made it easier for me to climb up and still he helped me up. I sat down and settled myself well in the chair and was able to accommodate my leg on the footrest. He then pumped the pedal and raised the chair a lot. He was a very tall man and I was still very small at the time.
He took a nylon cape that was immaculately white and a neckstrip, put it around my neck and when closing the cape, he lifted my long hair so it wouldn't get stuck inside. My hair at this time was the longest it had ever been. My hair was brown, very straight and silky, it was starting to reach the back, my ears, which were huge, had been covered by the hair for a long time and my bangs were already reaching the chin, I put it to the side so it wouldn't get in my eyes.
He asked me, "How would you like your cut, son?" and I said "You can just take a little bit all around, sir, please" He took a pair of scissors and a comb from his uniform pocket and started to cut my hair, he was carefully cutting it, just reducing the entire hair length. I noticed how he did his job with care and attention and said "you are an excellent barber, sir" and he said "Thank you very much, son"
When it came to the bangs he combed it and they covered my eyes, my nose and my mouth. He asked "can I cut your bangs a little more so that it doesn't get in your eyes?" And I said "yes sir". He started to cut the bangs, in a straight line, I could hear the scissors crunching through the thick mass of hair in the bangs. I could see that he cut it slightly above the eyebrows. I smiled at him.
He was looking at me a little in the mirror and then he said to me "Son, what do you think if I cut your hair a little more, since the bangs are shorter like that, maybe we will reduce the length in general?". I, who could not say no to such a friendly person, said "yes, sir". He took the scissors and the comb and started cutting my hair again. In the back he cut a lot, it would still be considered long, but it was a lot of hair that came off. He still kept my ears covered, but on edge. I thought he did a great job and I complimented him.
He looked at me again, smiling and said. "Son, I know you are used to long hair, but let me tell you something, you would look great with short hair". I was very surprised by what he said, but as it was a compliment, I said "Thank you very much, sir" and he said "So, shall we do it?". He took me by surprise, I never thought about that possibility, but I had a hard time saying no. I stood there thinking what to say.
He then changed the subject and said: "Look, you told me that I have a full mustache like your late grandfather. What do you think about me being your grandpa now? You can call me grandpa if you want" I was even more surprised, but happy, and I said, "Don't you mind, sir?" And he said "I don't care at all, I'm going to be very proud to have such a well-educated grandson". I said, "Okay, Grandpa, I'm going to enjoy being your grandson."
Then he said "And, as my grandson, would you accept a very short cut as grandpa likes?", I didn't even think much and said "Yes, grandpa".
He took the scissors and cut my bangs, this time a lot shorter, halfway down my forehead. Then he picked up one of the clippers that was hanging on a hook. He held my head firmly, pushed it down, turned the clippers on and started running it from nape to almost the top of my head, a huge amount of hair fell on my lap, over the cape. And he kept doing the same movement over and over until the entire back of my hair was stubbly.
Then he lifted my head and put it a little at an angle, started to run the clippers on the right side, from sideburn to crown, in a few steps everything was already cut almost shaved. My huge ear was showing after a long time. He bent my ear and passed clippers around a few more times to make everything even. He went to the left side, slightly moved my head and did exactly the same movements he had done on the right side.

Then he turned off the clippers and put it back on the wall hook. He picked up the scissors and the comb again and started cutting my hair at the top, but now he was cutting it very short, almost as short as if he had used clippers. He made everything perfect, so that it suited the stubbly sides and the small fringe at the front. I got a typical cut for boys from a few years before, like kids used to have when I was about 4 or 5 years old. He took a cleaning brush and dusted my head, face, ears, neck and nape. Then he shook the cape well and opened it. He lowered the barber's chair well and helped me out, saying "Okay, my grandson, now you're perfect" And I said "Thanks Grandpa".
I sat back in the waiting chair and we talked happily until my dad arrived…

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