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Album: Part 5. by Domko
Sorry for my weak English, not my mother tongue
I recommend that you read the previous sections of the Album first. My name is Raul and in 1988 I was 14 years old. As a punishment I got a military hairstyle and I was to receive it at regular intervals of 3 week intervals until my 16th birthday.
After three weeks, I came to Nelson's barber shop. During that time, my hair grew 3/8 inch. I was the third customer. When I cut the haircut for the hairstyle, I sat down on a waiting chair so that I had the best possible view of the barber's chair so that I could see other men chasing and I waited for my two friends to get the same military hairstyle as I had and we will go to dessert at a nearby bar.
As I watch the barber cut an old man of about 65 years old, a 12-year-old boy of about a 70-year-old man entered the barber shop. The boy kept telling his grandfather that he didn't want the haircut, but the old man didn't react at all. After about 5 minutes, the boy calmed down and sat quietly on a waiting chair. I was looking forward to seeing the boy lose his beautiful long black hair. But when it was his turn, his grandfather stood up and sat down in a barber's chair and got his short haircut. When he left the barber's chair, the boy got up and laughed at me, about to leave with the old man. But he shouted at him in a stern voice: Go sit down immediately and pointed to the barber's chair. His legs broke and he reluctantly sat down. The barber wrapped him in a white sheet and began combing about 10 inches of thick black hair covering his eyes, ears, and shoulders.
The barber asked a familiar sentence: How do we do it today? I saw in the mirror like a boy going to say something. But the barber looked at the old man and waited for an answer. Take it # 2 and the rest # 000000 and point it at me. Too bad I didn't see the boy's eyes through the boy's hair, but I knew he would end up with the same hairstyle as me.
When the barber tilted the boy's head and placed large electric scissors on his forehead, the boy wanted to move but the barber's left hand held his head firmly. The barber walked over the top of his head for the first time. When the barber turned his hand slightly to the ground, the first black hair fell. The barber continued to cut and I had the opportunity to see short hair on top of my head. After a few minutes, the boy's head full of hair turned into a small head of short black hair. The barber brushed his hair off the tarpaulin, took smaller scissors, and put the boy's head forward. He put the scissors around his neck and climbed upside down with them. I saw clear white skin, the area of which gradually increased. As the barber frothed the back and sides of his head, he began scraping the foam. When he scraped the foam, he wiped its remains with a towel. The barber asked the old man if he was happy with the boy's hairstyle. He said again in his mighty voices: Give him a landing pad. I haven't heard that expression yet. The barber took electric scissors. He placed them on top of the boy's head and walked slowly over the top to the front. Finally, he frothed the cut part and slowly scraped the foam. I didn't see the top of his head from the waiting chair until the barber had finished his work, the boy put his head forward and I noticed the center of his head, about 3 inches long and an inch wide white stripe. It was very exciting but also very humiliating. As the boy jumped out of his chair, I saw tears running down his cheeks. Welcome to the club, I whispered to him as he walked past me.
Soon my new friends came, who came like my hair after 3 weeks. When the barber finished their cuts, on the way home I told them how the boy got a landing pad. They both laughed, but the elder then said: our father wasn't there yet, because we would get her too.
We said goodbye to meeting again at Nelson's barber shop in 3 weeks