DAD! (Part 12 of 15) by JB

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Over in the waiting area, Henderson exhales. The time has arrived. He ponders his misfortune, thinking, "Man. If only we'd gotten here a few minutes earlier... before Paul Bunyan showed up."

Jack swivels the empty barber chair back around to its default position, facing the waiting area, and locks it in place. He looks over at the frat brothers, "Okay! Which one of you two wants to go first?"

Matt Cunningham does the speaking for both of them, "Oh, I'm not here for a haircut, sir," he addresses Jack politely, "I had my hair trimmed about a month ago." He lifts his baseball cap and runs his hand through his perfectly styled layer-cut, "So I don't think I'll be needing a touch-up today." He replaces the cap atop his head, "I'm just tagging along to keep my cousin Greg, here, company while he gets his hair trimmed. Isn't that right, cousin?"

Greg Henderson glances over at Matt and whispers, "Cousin?"

Matt whispers back, "Just go with it, Henderson. Follow my lead."

Henderson stands up and reluctantly shuffles over to the empty barber chair, like a death-row inmate approaching 'the chair', "Yeah. That would be me," he replies as he settles into the chair.

Jack gives the cape a quick snap and drapes it around Greg. Tucking the paper strip into Greg's collar, he lifts his long hair in back to get it out of the way and fastens the pinstriped cape tightly around his neck. He runs a comb through Greg's perfectly styled hair a few times, "So. Just a trim today, huh?"

The time has come for Greg to deliver his prescribed line. And he does so robotically, without emotion, "Sir, I want a haircut just like the last guy, sir." Even though he hates saying it, he's glad to finally utter the dreaded line and get it over with.

Jack is caught a little off guard, "What, you mean a flattop? Like I just gave to Steve, my last customer?"

"Yes sir. Just like the last guy," Greg replies dutifully.

Over in the waiting area, Matt pretends to be surprised, "What? Wait, bro! You told me you were just gonna get a trim!"

"Just like the last guy, sir." Greg repeats.

Matt launches into a 'tall tale' that would make Scott's dad beam with pride, "You don't wanna get buzzed down flat again, cousin. You finally got yer hair lookin' nice and long, like mine!" Matt looks up at Jack and catches his eye, "See, my cousin Greg grew up on a ranch, out in the middle of nowhere. And for as long as I can remember, he's always had a flattop. Every couple of months his dad would shear him down real good. When we were kids, whenever my family came for a visit, I would always tease him about his dorky haircut... remember that, Greg? Anyway, a few months ago he moved to the 'big city' to attend college. I convinced him to start growing his hair out longer so he would fit in with the rest of us city folk. And he got his hair lookin' real nice, like it is now... Only, I guess he misses the old days, back at the ranch... back when he had his flattop. Isn't that right, Greg."

Greg takes his cue, "I want a haircut just like the last guy," he intones.

"Well okay then," Jack says, "Sounds like you 'want a haircut just like the last guy'," he says, parroting Greg's repetition of the line, "I don't think that'll be a problem. And since you've had a flattop most of yer life, I'll just dive right in and remove most of this bulk here," he grabs a handful of Greg's hair, "I'll take it down to a one inch brushcut and do the squaring and flattening from there. I'll have ya lookin' like the last guy in no time!"

Greg's heart is pounding in his chest, "OhGodOhGodOhGod..." he repeats in his mind. His mantra is interrupted as...

The rotary clippers start to whirr and chatter. Jack begins lifting Greg's hair and running the clippers up through the sides and over the top; his long hair falling in huge clumps to the left and right and into his lap. In less than 30 seconds Greg's immaculate layer-cut is reduced to a 1 inch buzzcut; his hair sticking up here, sticking out there, and poking over the tips of his ears. The floor around the barber chair can barely be seen through the fallen mounds of hair.

Greg is facing away from the mirrors and can't see what's happening, "I guess it's better this way," he thinks, "If I could see my hair getting mowed off I'd probably flip out fer sure."

In the waiting area, Matt Cunningham is thoroughly enjoying Greg's transformation. He continues with the tall tale that he started earlier, laughing at the sight of his pledge's fluffy buzzcut, "[Ha!] It's like yer back at the ranch again, bro. Yer hair looks just like one of yer sheep after shearing; all soft and furry-like... Hey, remember when I came to stay at the ranch with you that one summer? Eight years ago I think. Yeah, 1970. I was fourteen, still in junior high, about to start 9th grade and you musta been about twelve. We were watching your dad shearing sheep in the barn and afterwards he used the same sheep clippers on you and me! We both had short butch haircuts for the rest of the summer. I was bummed about it at first, but after a while I liked having my hair buzzed short. Well, except when school started. My hair was still too short to lay down, even shorter than yours is now. I was the only kid in the whole freakin' school with a butch cut... And now you're gonna be the only guy at college with a freakin' flattop! But hey, if that's what you want..."

Jack exchanges the rotary clippers for the smaller buzzer clippers and sculpts the sides and back of Greg's hair into squared-off perfection, "I left a little stubble for yer sideburns; just like I did with Steve, 'the last guy'," Jack says. He sprays water on Greg's inch-long top, "Hmm, looks like I'm gonna need a little Butch Wax to get yer hair standin' up good an' straight." He rubs a dab of the wax between his palms and applies it to Greg's wet hair; smearing his hands up the back and sides for good measure, "Yep, that oughta work." He uses a brush and the blow dryer to get every shaft of Greg's hair glowing with a healthy sheen and standing at attention.

"I still can't believe yer doin' this, bro," Matt shakes his head, "Your hair was finally lookin' perfect; and now look at ya. Yer back in Dorksville, man. Back at the ranch with..." Matt abruptly ceases his taunting as he sees Jack taking Greg's deck down flat. He wants to pay special attention to this part of Greg's transformation; the crowning glory: flattening the top. As Jack repeatedly runs the clippers over the comb, more and more of Greg's white scalp is exposed; leaving behind a broad landing strip for all the world to see. Matt stares in awe, his mouth twisted into a half-smirk.

Jack uses the clippers to trim the upper edges of Greg's flattop, making it as sharp and even and flat as possible. He steps back to make a final inspection of his work, "Looks a hundred percent better, if you ask me!" He loosens the cape, trims the short neck hairs, and gives Greg a good dusting.

Whipping away the cape, Jack rotates the chair toward the mirror to give Greg his first look at himself, "So how'd I do?" Jack asks, "Did I match it up with the photo there?" He points to Steve's high school football picture on the wall.

Greg stares morosely at his clean-cut, old fashioned flattop with its glaring landing strip. He offers up a sickly grin, "Yes sir, just like the last guy, sir." He gingerly touches the sandpapery top, "Just like the last guy." He sighs.

Jack smiles, "Must feel great to have a flattop again, right? Almost like yer back at the ranch."

Greg has to think for a moment to recall Matt's fictional tale, "What?... Oh... yeah... the ranch." He runs his hand up through the velvety pile at the back of his head, "Man," he thinks, "It's even worse than I thought... I'm screwed."

Jack pulls open his cash drawer and waits patiently to be paid. Greg is in a daze, pondering his transformation. Jack clears his throat to get his attention, "Ahem..."

Matt rouses Greg from his dismal reverie, "Well pay the man, bro! After he did such an awesome job on yer flattop I think you should give him a couple extra, don'tcha think?"

"Oh. Yeah... Sorry. Guess I was comparing my flattop to the last guy's, the one on the wall, there."

As Greg pays for his haircut, Matt gets up from his seat in the waiting area and compares Steve's old football photo to Greg's flattop, "Let's see..." he says, "Squared-off sides; check. Front hairline stickin' up short an' straight; check. Big ol' landing strip runnin' down the middle; check. Yes sir, looks like a perfect match to me!" He notices an old yellowed price list tacked to the wall next to the photos. Its corners are curled up with age, "Hmm," he says, looking at the list:

______________________

. . . . . - PRICES - . . .

REGULAR CUT.............. $1.00
FLATTOP.................. $1.25
CREWCUT............... 75 cents
BUTCH................. 50 cents
2-FOR-1 SPECIAL*......... FREE

*Get one of the above haircuts
at the regular price, get the
second haircut for FREE!*


(*free haircu
__________

Having paid for his unwanted haircut, Greg walks over to where Matt is studying the old price list, "Hey bro, c'mon. Let's get outa here," he grumbles, "The deed is done; I got myself scalped." He brushes his hand through the top of his flattop.


(To Be Continued)

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