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Something I would never imagine by Storyteller
Since I was eight years old in 1974, my father has allowed me to let my hair grow, as was the fashion of the day for boys. I just needed to keep my hair clean, neatly combed and go to the barber to trim every now and then. I obeyed this rule and, over time, my hair grew longer and longer. When I was 15 I my hair was shoulder lenght, with the bangs tossed to the side and the ears - my huge flapping ears - were completely covered.
I was a great student and an exemplary son, I did all the chores my parents asked for and treated all adults with respect. With my father, especially, I had an excellent relationship, I was his companion for everything he asked of me and, even with the years passing by, and me becoming a teenager, I never stopped being with him when he needed to.
One day, when I was getting ready to go to the barbershop for a haircut, my father said to me "Today I'm going with you". I was surprised, because it was not something we used to do together, but I was very happy to have my father's company, I smiled and said "Sure, Dad, I'll wait for you then".
We left and soon we were at the barbershop, which was very close to home. We greeted the barber, who said, surprised "Wow, I haven't seen those two together here in a long time". My father and I smiled. He said, "Did the two of you come for a haircut? Who goes first?" And my father said "No, it's just him, I just came to accompany him" And, really, his hair was very short, he got a cut recently. The barber then got the chair ready and motioned for me to sit. I promptly went to the barberchair.
The barber put a neckstrip around my neck and his fabric cape around me, lifting my hair on the back and closing the caper with a pin. Then he started combing my hair and smiling he said "The usual, son?". Then something I would never imagine happened. My father, who was sitting on the waiting couch, got up and said, "No. Today, for him, it will be a military haircut, very strict, with the sides and back shaved ". I got surprised and so did the barber. Neither I nor the barber understood anything. The barber could not imagine that it could be some kind of punishment because he knew what a good son I was and trusted that I would not have done anything wrong. And I, well, I knew it was all right with me.
The barber looked at me, as if expecting some reaction, but I wouldn't have, I would never have a reaction against something my father said. I just stood still and looked at the barber. He looked at my dad and said "Sorry, what?" And my father repeated "A military haircut, very strict, with sides and back shaved. Please" The barber then said "Yes, Sir"
He then took clippers, which I had never seen him use before, placed the # 2 blade on them, held my head very tightly, and started running the clippers over my head. I was looking in the mirror, and I saw when they started to move through the middle of my bangs and move towards the back, a path was opened in the middle of my hair. In the mirror I could see my father's face, he had a smile on his face, it wasn't a mocking smile, nor an angry smile, just a smile of satisfaction.
The work of the barber with the clippers on the top of my head continued. He made several passes, and I saw less and less of my long hair and more of the very short hair becoming what was on top of my head. When the entire top was even on the # 2 clippers length, he switched them off for a moment and changed the blade to a # 00000. I saw that number forged on the blade and understood that might be something very short. The barber then held the top of my head - wow, it was really weird to feel his hand touching the very short hair on the top of my head - he pushed my head down a bit, turned on the clippers and started running it from nape to crown. A mountain of hair fell on my lap.
The barber continued to do this a few more times and the hair was falling in my lap. Then he moved my head slightly and started to run the clippers on the right side from sideburns to crown. And I saw in the mirror that there was practically no hair, much shorter than on top. And I saw my father smiling again, and he was smiling at me, not knowing what to do I smiled back.
Before long my ear was bare, and then I discovered that it was no longer as disproportionate as when I was a child, I just didn't know becaus emy ears were always covered by hair. The barber bent my ear and buzzed carefully around it to make it look even. Then he went to the other side, moved my head at another angle and started to do exactly the same job he had done on the right side. Everything is the same millimeter. Even the folded ear. I saw in the mirror that I definitely no longer had giant flapping ears.
The barber positioned my head again, unplugged the clippers and put them back in place and looked at my dad and said, "Is that okay, sir?" my father said, "No. The sides and back must be razor shaved". The barber then took a shaving brush and a bowl and started preparing shaving foam and I waited patiently. He started to spread a generous amount of foam all over the sides and back. Through the mirror I saw the area on the sides covered with foam, which, by the way, smelled very good.
The barber took the razor and began to shave the tiny hairs that remained on the sides and back. I saw him doing his job, in the mirror and did not move, afraid of the razor, which I had never felt in my head before. After the detailed and careful work of the barber, everything below the crown line of my head was smooth, without a trace of hair.
The barber took small cloth and removed the excess foam and, then, applid aftershave, ouch that stung. Then he used the clippers again to make some touch-ups around the top, on the crown. Finally, he hung up and put away the clippers and took out a duster brush to clean my face, my head, around my ears, on the nape. He put powder and spread it around my ears and in the nape.
He opened the cape, took off the neckstrip and said "Okay, son, you can now leave the chair" I smiled and said "Thank you, Sir" as polite as ever. My father, who was standing there, smiling, rubbed my head and said "Good boy", I smiled shyly and said "Thank you, Dad".
Dad took his wallet to pay the barber and said. "He, from now on, will get this cut weekly, I will already pay you for this month's cuts", he ran his hand over my head again and said "I think in the next cuts, you can make it shorter on top"
I thanked the barber again, me and dad said bye to the barber and left the barbershop. When we were out on the street, my father gave me a hug and said "Thank you so much for behaving so well" and then said "I think I owe you an explanation", I was quiet, looking and he said "You know what, I couldn’t see you with all that longhair, it just didn’t match your attitude as a good son, as a good student, I’m sure you’ll get used to it and you’ll like it." He smiled and said, "Okay, son?" and I said "Yes, Dad, next week I’ll come and remind the barber that the cut must be shorter at the top". My father rubbed my head again and smiled. And I came home happy to be my father's good son.