Friends by Skinned21

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The sign read “Welcome to Philadelphia – Home to the International Firefighter Games 2001.” They had made it. Finally they were there. The airplane had arrived on time and the passengers were all glad to be able to de-board after the eight and a half hour flight. As the jet was pulling into its final parking position the chief flight attendant had announced sun and 25° C for the next week. Things couldn’t have been getting off to a better start.

Jakob and Torsten had left Frankfurt International Airport looking for adventure and not the run of the mill vacation that they both could get at home. Both Jakob and Torsten had been firefighters at the same station since they finished high school in 1990. They had both been decorated for valor and distinction in the line of duty. They were well qualified and skilled to be a part of the team representing Germany at the International Firefighter Games 2001.

There were 30 participating nations with teams each consisting of four firefighters and four emergency rescue specialists. The games were designed to test skills in response, ability, agility, performance and teamwork. The Games were to last for two weeks. Jakob and Torsten had planned to extend their stay for another two weeks after the Games and tour the eastern seaboard.

They were a team unto themselves. They had grown up together, gone to school together – they were the best of friends. They worked as a team in their squad at their station. They were almost one. Torsten had been Jakob’s best man when Jakob got married a few years ago. He was the godfather of Jakob’s firstborn son. Jakob on the other hand had always been there to help pick up the pieces when one of Torsten’s relationships went wrong. They had looked at life in two different ways and neither Torsten nor Jakob regretted having the other as a friend.

During the games all the participants were placed with families of the Philadelphia Fire Department. Torsten was set up with a young family named Bealty. Mathew Bealty was about Torsten’s age and had been a firefighter for the past twelve years. Jakob was located with the Dixon’s. Donald Dixon was a retired firefighter with more than forty years of experience.

In the morning there was an informal information meeting at the Philadelphia District Headquarters for Fire Prevention and Rescue Services. Torsten and Jakob got together with their respective hosts. Donald Dixon was 67 and built solid. He still worked out regularly and seemed like he could certainly hold his own. He wore a gray flattop and a big bushy mustache that reached his bottom lip. Mathew Bealty was thirty years old. He lifted weights regularly with his fellow firefighters. He had a flattop too, but was clean-shaven. Like Mathew and Donald, Torsten and Jakob were well muscled from working out regularly and were both 31 years of age. They both looked rather shaggy compared to their hosts, but the requirements and the traditions in Germany are different. Jakob’s hair reached just below his collar covering his ears and falling soft across his forehead. He wore a goatee that was definitely in need of a trim. Torsten had long hair that he kept in a ponytail. He too had a goatee, but his was manicured to perfection.

The official in charge of the Games greeted the participants warmly. He explained the rules, the scoring and the awards. The individual tests and trials were explained briefly. Lists were passed around indicating which teams were starting – when and where. The opening ceremonies were to take place tomorrow at two and the first test at three-thirty. He wished everyone a good day and a great stay in Philadelphia.

It was now 10:30. Donald suggested they go for a coffee. The four guys walked down the street to a corner coffee shop. It wasn’t too busy and they were able to find a booth. They talked about the upcoming events and the opening ceremonies.

Torsten was stirring his coffee, “What are you doing this afternoon?”

Donald said that he had some garden work that had to be done before the games got underway. Mathew was looking out the window.

“I have to get a haircut before the games start,” he said as he returned his attention to the table.

“A haircut?” said Torsten raising his eyebrows. “Your hair is already so short. You don’t need a haircut.”

Mathew smiled, “Oh yes, I do. My whole team is getting the same cut. I just haven’t had time. I worked the last two weeks solid till yesterday when you arrived. The two of you look like you could do with haircuts too!” Mathew winked at Jakob.

Donald picked up on the topic. “Are you really allowed to wear your hair that long? I mean, aren’t there any rules against it?” He chuckled and said more to himself than to anyone else, “Here you’d have no hope in hell of working for the fire department with hair that long.”

“In Germany there are no rules against it. You can wear it however you want,” Jakob explained. “Some guys have it short, some have it long and some even have it shaved. I used to have it a lot shorter, but I guess I just got lazy in the last little while. I don’t really care whether mine is long or short.” He looked at Torsten, “You’ve always had long hair, haven’t you?”

Torsten turned red as he spoke, “Yes, I always thought I looked better with longer hair. Although I have been thinking about cutting it, just for a change.”

Mathew was into his second cup of coffee when he spoke up, “You guys can come with me to the barbershop. I’ll get my haircut and then I can show you around town. Do you have the whole day off?”

“No, we have to meet with our team at four this afternoon,” replied Torsten.

“So what do you say? Do you want me to show you around town?”

Torsten and Jakob looked at each other and they both nodded at the same time. Having said goodbye to Donald, they all climbed into Mathew’s Pontiac. Mathew pointed out several things on the way out of downtown. Torsten recognized some of the sites from the drive into the city in the morning. Mathew explained to Jakob that he and his wife had bought a new house in the suburbs a few years ago. He’d started going to the barber there at the same time. The subdivision had been built in 1965. The cornerstones back then had been the church, the school, the community center and the plaza. Mathew’s car pulled into the parking lot of the plaza. Today, it might be characterized as a strip mall, but to Mathew and the rest of the inhabitants of the subdivision it was the plaza. Mathew pulled the car into a parking spot one door down from the “Village Barbershop.”

The three men got out of the car and headed toward its door. The plaza was built so that its roof extended across the sidewalk sheltering the shoppers from the rain and the sun. In front of the window on the sidewalk the barber had placed a wooden bench. Today the bench was empty, but it was there for anyone who wanted to sit and take a break. The whole front of the shop was made out of glass: a window and a door. The window itself was not decorated. Only the words “Village Babershop” were painted directly on the window. Just inside the shop directly behind the window attached to the wall was the traditional barber’s pole. It rotated with its red, white and blue stripes. On the door a sign was hung with the words “Come in. We’re open!”

The three men entered the shop. There were two patrons, one being served and one waiting his turn. The barber looked up as they walked in. He greeted Mathew with a big smile.

“Hi Matt! Looks like you’re long over do.”

“Hey Joe! I sure am. I wanted to get here earlier this week, but I just couldn’t find the time. Joe, I’d like you to meet two friends of mine from Germany. This is Jakob and this Torsten. They are part of the German team taking part in the games.”

Jakob and Torsten waved greetings at the barber as they took a seat to wait for Mathew. The barber returned the greeting by waving the straight razor in the air, which he held in his hand. He was in the process of giving a straight razor shave as the three had arrived. Joe was a big man with great posture. He was in his late fifties. His hair had that salt and pepper look that comes with age to some dark haired people. He wore it in a crewcut. The top was around a half inch in length with the sides and the back tapered shorter. He wore a white barber’s shirt that buttoned at the collar. He didn’t use the pockets to hold his tools like others did.

Jakob and Torsten couldn’t take their eyes off the barber and the shave. Neither had ever had or seen one done before. They watched as Joe with a steady hand slowly scraped away the lather first with the blunt side of the razor and then with the sharp side shaved the patron’s upper lip. They continued to watch, but slowly they started to take in their surroundings.

The shop itself seemed to have been there forever. It must have opened when the plaza had been built and had not been changed at all in the last 35 years or so. The floor was tiled with black and white tiles in a checkerboard fashion. There were signs of wear and tear all over it. There had been 35 years of shoes and boots, salt and sand in the winters, hair and brooms, a mug that had shattered on it. The floor had seen it all.

The walls were painted white. At least the had been white at some time in the past. Behind the barber’s chair hung a large mirror. There were only three other things that decorated the walls. A large clock hung over the door to the back room. A price list hung next to the cash register to the left of the barber next to the large mirror. Above the mirror there were two photographs of haircuts and on the wall opposite the mirror there were two other photographs. They could be seen in the mirror. They were black and white pictures of haircuts from the early sixties. There was a crewcut longer than the generic buzzcuts worn today, and definitely much more refined. There was a timeless short taper with a short-layered top. There was a crisp looking ivy-league. The last one was a flattop with sides that were short, but not extreme, and a longer top that was absolutely flat.

Joe had finished shaving his patron. He had used a hot towel and massaged some tonic into the man’s skin. The air in the shop took on the aroma. The barber turned the man toward the mirror. He spoke to the man’s reflection.

“Are you sure you, you don’t want a haircut?”

The patron, a man in his early forties, had a businessman’s cut. It had been tapered at the sides and the back, but had grown out somewhat. The guy shook his head.

Joe picked up the clippers and his comb. He said “Then I’ll just clean up around the edges and get that taper back into shape.” Without waiting for the man to reply Joe pushed the man’s head toward his lap. Joe turned on the clippers and began tapering the man’s neck. He proceeded around the back and around both ears. Joe gave him a quick outline shave. In five minutes Joe had made the man’s haircut last another three weeks at least.

The man got out of the chair and paid Joe five dollars for a shave and half a haircut. The price list read that a shave cost five dollars, a regular haircut six dollars, a flattop seven dollars, beard trim without a haircut three dollars, children four dollars. Seniors, military and uniformed service had a dollar off all prices.

“Thanks Joe. See you next month!” the man called as he passed through the door.

Joe called out after him, “See you Pat! Thanks for stopping by.” Joe turned his head toward the four men waiting. “Next!” he called out softly.

The next guy approached the barber’s chair. The chair looked like it was older than the shop itself. The leather of the seat and the back was worn and cracked. The white enamel looked as if it could endure for eternity. The chair had a pump lever to raise it by hand and not by foot. There was a lever to recline the chair for shaves and the headrest that was used for shaving was integrated into the back of the chair.

Once the young guy was seated. Joe placed the white cape with the red pinstripes around his neck. He secured a paper tissue and then the cape around the guy’s neck. The guy in his early twenties had hair that was very wavy and about 3 inches long all over. He was facing the mirror. Joe spoke to his reflection too.

“So what’s it going to be, sport?”

“Crewcut. Uh … take it real short, please”

“How short is ‘real short’ to you? Down to the skin? An eighth of an inch? A quarter?

A half an inch?”

The guy looked at himself and said, “Let’s go for an eighth of an inch, I can still go short if it’s too long”.

Joe nodded toward the reflection and turned the chair away from the mirror. The young guy was now facing Mathew, Jakob and Torsten. The barber turned again the mirror under which his counter stood. The counter held a small sink. It had a shaving mug and brush standing next to it. There was a tall bottle containing a blue liquid with five or six combs in it. Next to the bottle were some smaller bottles and jars containing tonics and other products from another era. On the other side of the sink there was the cash register, a hot lather machine, a row of scissors, three straight razors, two hairbrushes and a duster. Leaning against the mirror was a small hand mirror. Under the edge of the counter there were many hooks. From one hook hung a leather strop for honing the straight razor. From the other hooks hung six clippers. They hung in an order known only to Joe. He took one and brushed the blades with the duster.

Joe took a wide toothed comb out of the bottle. He turned on the clippers. He held up the hair in front with the comb. Placing the clippers at the hairline he proceeded in one single motion to shear a strip straight back across the young guy’s head. The hair showered onto the cape and the floor. He continued to remove the hair from the top of the young guy’s head.

Jakob and Torsten were both in awe. This was a new experience for both of them. Mathew was reading the newspaper when he looked up and saw their faces. He smiled and went back to reading. The barber had finished with the top and was now working on the sides. He talked about college football with the young guy for the whole time. Once he had finished with taking all the hair down to an eighth of an inch he turned the chair back to the mirror.

The young guy brought his hand out from under the cape. He felt the top, the sides and the back. “The top is great, but I think the sides and the back should be shorter.”

Joe nodded. He turned the chair away from the mirror. He picked out a clipper two hooks further down. He took the sides and the back down skintight. Using the comb he blended the sides and back into the top. He let the guy check it out again. He was satisfied this time. Joe proceeded to give him an outline shave. When he was finished, the young guy stood at the mirror and stroked the bristles on the top of his head. He grinned at his reflection while he paid Joe. As he left the shop his hand was running up and down the sandpaper-like sides and back.

Joe went to the back and got a broom. He swept the pile of hair to the backroom and then dusted off the seat. He called out, “Next!”

Mathew started to get up, but looked at the two Germans offering them a chance to go first. Both declined. Mathew winked at them when he was seated in the chair. The barber didn’t bother to turn the chair toward the mirror. While he prepared Mathew for his cut, they talked about the upcoming games and people they both knew.

“So Matt, the usual?”

“Not today, Joe. I want something special for the games. How about a horseshoe flattop for a change.”

“Sure thing, Matt. Razor shaved or clipper shaved?”

“Let’s go for the razor today.”

Joe picked up the clippers hanging from the second last hook. He turned them on. Instead of starting at the base of the neck or at the ear, Joe placed the clippers at Mathew’s temple cutting a path from front to back. Joe repeated the same on the other side. The two paths joined in the back. Joe used the clippers to remove all the hair that grew below that line.

Mathew had gotten his last flattop four weeks prior. The sides and back were now a good five-eighths of an inch long. Once Joe had removed this growth, he picked up a stiff bristle brush and briskly brushed the top to attention. Using a different set of clippers and comb Joe clipped Mathew’s top flat and very short. The front was barely three quarters of an inch long. Joe changed back to the first set of clippers. He cut a path straight down the center of Mathew’s head stopping about an inch and a half from his front hairline. Joe widened the bare strip sculpting a horseshoe shape on the top of Mathew’s head. The initial bare path now extended up over the crown. Mathew’s scalp was practically hair free except for the horseshoe on top. Thee barber then rubbed some cream all over the shorn areas and covered them with a hot towel.

“Bet you’ve never had a haircut like this before?” asked Joe.

“No never!” replied Jakob

“And you can work as a firefighter with your hair like that?”

“There are no regulations concerning hair. It’s each person’s choice.”

Mathew butted in, “Hey Joe, maybe you can talk them into a cut. I bet they really would like one.” Mathew grinned his eyes covered by the towel. Joe looked at the two Germans and sighed.

He started to explain how the regulations in the US are in general. He told them that the cut that Mathew was getting was shorter than required, but nonetheless very common. The towel was off and the lather had been applied. Joe shaved the bare areas with slow, even, steady strokes. Then the towel was applied again. Joe talked and talked about the virtues of a good short haircut. He talked more to himself than to anyone else. Unbeknown to him, Jakob and Torsten hung on every word. Mathew was almost finished when he spoke to his friends through the mirror.

“You better decide who’s next,” he said with a big grin.

Jakob and Torsten disappeared into a conversation in German. They shook their heads, shrugged shoulders, gesticulated and finally nodded in unison. They had reached their decision. Mathew climbed out of the chair. He checked out his cut in the mirror while he paid.

While he walked over to his friends, Joe called out, “Next!” as he dusted off the chair.

Jakob stood up and sat down in the chair. Mathew sat down to watch, he had not expected this. Joe got Jakob ready for his cut. Jakob was facing the mirror, as Joe, with a big grin, asked him, if he wanted a horseshoe too.

Jakob looked at himself in the mirror and then at Mathew. ”No, I think not. I think a regular flattop would be better, not shaved. Is that okay?” His voice faltered. He looked worried.

Joe told him to relax. The chair was again turned away from the mirror. Jakob gripped the armrests tightly and his eyes never left Torsten’s. Joe took a different clipper from the other end of the hooks. He turned it on and pushed Jakob’s head forward. Jakob’s kept his eyes on Torsten. They never lost contact. Joe pushed the clippers straight up the back of Jakob’s head. He continued all around the back and the sides stripping the long lengths of hair. He changed the clippers twice during this time to taper the neck and the area around the ears tightly. He took a hairbrush and held it under the tap. He roughly brushed the hair on Jakob’s top in order to get it moist.

Joe then took scissors and a comb to the top. He reduced it quickly to a length of one and a half inches. The top was still damp. After applying some wax to the hair, Joe used the same hairbrush to brush Jakob’s top back vigorously making sure that it stood up straight. With the clippers and the comb, Joe took his time creating a flat deck. He worked meticulously. There was not a sound in the shop, but the hum of the clippers. Joe then took some lather and shaved the outline clean. Before he turned Jakob toward the mirror, he tilted the chair back and pulled out the headrest.

“How about I take off that beard of yours? It doesn’t look good with the new cut. I can leave a mustache, if you like.”

Jakob replied, “No take it all off, please. I’ve gone this far I might as well go all the way.”

Joe used clippers to remove the goatee. After having coated Jakob’s face with cream, he then applied a hot towel. Joe changed the blade in the razor. He held the shaving brush under the hot water. Using the brush Joe worked up a lather in the mug. When the towel was removed, Joe began to apply the shaving cream. He stroked Jakob’s beard with the shaving brush. With his one hand he massaged the beard and with the other he applied more lather. After about five minutes, Joe began to shave. He carefully removed the excess lather with the back of the razor catching the lather in his hand. With steady firm strokes Joe gave Jakob a shave. After another hot towel and some tonic Jakob was finished.

Joe put the chair back upright. He took a stiff bristled brush and worked it through Jakob’s flattop. The moment had come. Jakob was turned toward the mirror. He looked hard into the mirror and turned his head from right to left. Joe showed him the back in the hand mirror. With one last critical look, he nodded his approval. The biggest grin spread across his face as he, like the others before him, ran his hands over his head.

Jakob left the chair and walked toward the others. Mathew was already standing and gave Jakob’s head a friendly rub. In the meantime Joe had dusted off the chair and Torsten had taken seat in it. Mathew and Jakob look at each other not believing what was about to happen.

With Torsten ready for his cut, Joe asked him the fateful question. Torsten looked at Jakob and Mathew in the mirror. He looked at his own reflection and said, “I’d like it cut like Mathew.”

Joe did a double take as did the other two. Joe asked him if he were certain. Torsten nodded and said, “Just like Mathew.” There was a grin creeping across his face.

Torsten’s hair was still gathered in the ponytail. Joe took his largest shears and cut straight through. It fell to the floor. Joe took the shears and comb to the hair that had fallen around Torsten’s face. In no time, Torsten had been given a decent short haircut. Joe used the wet hairbrush and wax to get Torsten’s hair to stand up. Joe picked up the clippers from the far end of the hooks. The ones he had used on Mathew. He turned them on and cut the path from the temple to the crown on both sides of Torsten’s head. The hair on the sides and back below this path was removed in slow even strokes. Joe used a firm grip to hold Torsten’s head in place while he worked the clippers up the back. He did not stop at the crown. He continued onto the top removing the middle strip and creating the horseshoe. Joe took his time sculpting the horseshoe. It must have taken twenty minutes to complete.

Joe then covered Torsten’s head with a hot towel. He got the razor ready to shave him. When the lather from the hot lather machine had been applied, Joe started on the top of Torsten’s head. He scraped away the shorn areas making them smooth. He continued down the back and down the sides.

Joe wiped the shaved areas clean and put on another hot towel. Like Jakob before him, Torsten had not been given a real choice in the matter. Joe told Torsten that he would shave off the goatee and asked whether he wanted to keep the mustache. Torsten said that he would like to keep it.

With the chair in the reclining position, Joe used the edger to remove the lower part of Torsten’s goatee. He left him with a trim mustache that reached just to the corners of his mouth. Joe then wrapped Torsten’s face in a hot towel. He prepared that lather in the same way as he had done for Jakob. The towel was removed and the face was spread with lather that was massaged into the skin. This too took several minutes. Joe expertly removed the lather with a firm, but steady hand. When he was finished and Torsten was seated upright again, Joe applied the tonic to Torsten’s face and head. With the hairbrush the horseshoe was brought into shape.

Joe turned Torsten to the mirror. He had the hand mirror in his hand. He showed the back and the sides, while Torsten nodded silently. Torsten got out of the chair. He bent down and found his ponytail.

“Do you mind if I keep this as a reminder?”

“Go ahead, it’s yours. Well, what do you think? Do you like the cut?”

Torsten was putting away his wallet. He ran his hand up over the back of his head. While looking at his reflection, he replied, “It’s amazing. I had no idea that it could look this good.”

A grin spread across Joe’s face. He went to get the broom. The three freshly shorn men stood at the door and waited for Joe to come back. They asked Joe to come to the opening ceremonies. Joe was thrilled and agreed to meet them tomorrow at one-thirty.

Mathew showed his German friends, with what time was left, some of the sites to be found in Philadelphia. At three-thirty they parted company. Jakob and Torsten went to meet up with the rest of their team. When they got there, nobody recognized them at first. There were some jokes and some laughs. In the end everyone thought the guys looked sharp. Although nobody said so openly, Jakob and Torsten had the same gut feeling that the rest of the team would show up tomorrow with crisp new cuts suitable for the Games.

In Philadelphia the games were about to begin!

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