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School starts. by Domko


School starts.

My name is Erick. At the time when I was a boy it was modern to have long hair. Boys with short hair, their parents were usually conservative of hairstyles. I belonged to a group of boys who had long hair and went to modern salons.
When I was 15 and it was about 10 days before the start of the new school year, my father told me to have my hair done. Every day I found an excuse for not having time to go to a modern barber shop. I knew we were going to Uncle Herra's for the whole weekend on Friday, and school was starting on Monday. Uncle Herry had two sons, the older Ivan was 9.5 years old and the younger Mark 8 years old. Both are still small but despite their age they have quite short hair.
As I had planned, I couldn't get a haircut and we were already traveling to Uncle Herra's on Friday afternoon. I was glad to have completely long hair at the beginning of the school year.
After arriving and welcoming, Uncle Herry was told to excuse them, but he must go get his sons trimmed so that they would have decent hairstyles for the beginning of the school year. Then my father responded and told Uncle Herra if he would take me to the barber. He agreed. But I refused to get a haircut with them, which my father said in a very strict voice: If you don't go haircut now, I'll shave your whole head with a razor blade! I saw in him that he meant it and finally I went with my uncle Herry and his sons Mark and Ivan to the barber.
The barber shop we entered after about 15 minutes of walking was old-fashioned with one barber chair. The barber, a 65-year-old tall, slender man with short hair, greeted us, and Uncle Herry told him that I was his nephew, Erick, and I came to see him today to have a decent haircut at the beginning of the school year. We sat down on the waiting chairs. At first I looked around the room, where they had yellowed walls on which hung several old paintings of men and boys with short hairstyles.
For a moment I stopped perceiving the surroundings and I thought about what hairstyle I would ask from this old barber. At that, my uncle grabbed me by the shoulders and said: Erick, it's time to sit down in the barber's chair. I looked in front of me. The barber with the canvas in his hand was already waiting for me. With an uncertain step, I walked over to the barber and sat down in his old-fashioned chair. He wrapped me in a tarpaulin and pumped my chair, raising me to the desired height. When he combed my hair, did he ask how we cut today? I pulled my hand out from under the tarpaulin and went to show the barber how to straighten my hair ends. The barber said that. Boy, sit quietly. Your uncle will tell me how to cut you. He replied to give me a classic boyish hairstyle as he gave his sons. I looked in the mirror but I didn't see what hairstyle they got. To do this, the barber took a comb and electric shears. He lifted my hair with a comb and scissors followed him. My hair began to fall on the sail and to the ground. I noticed my ear and the barber continued to cut. In about 5 minutes I had about an inch long hair on my whole head and almost all my hair was about 12 inches on the ground. The barber exchanged scissors. He tilted my head to my side. He put the scissors on his forehead and shaved his ear. Then he walked with them from his forehead over his ear and I saw about an inch of white skin over my ear. My stomach began to constrict. The barber then moved from his ear higher to the top of his head. He did the same over the other ear. Later, he tilted my head forward and scissors from the neck to the top of my head several times. When he turned off the electric scissors. He combed my hair on the top of my head. I could feel his fingers on my head and cut my hair over them with scissors. He took the electric scissors again and made a small transition from the white skin to the length of my hair that remained on the top of my head. The barber released my sail and I wanted to jump out of the chair, but his hand put me back in the chair. Where are you in a hurry boy? He brushed his hair from the tarpaulin and turned it around my neck again. He soaked the back of my head and over my ears and applied white cream, which he began to scrape off. When I looked in the mirror, I saw a boy who had on his head about 1/2 inch long hair above his ears and 1/2 inch white arches of skin and 1/2 inch a slight transition of short hair. When I jumped out of the barber's chair, I grabbed the back of my head but I didn't feel any hair. If I'm not ashamed, I'll start crying. When I saw Ivan and Mark, they had the same short hair and white arches over their ears as me. Almost the entire back of the head was white only at the top they had about 1/2 inch a small passage of short hair as above the ears. I knew my back of the head was the same. It was my shortest haircut I've ever remembered.
On Sunday, after returning home from Uncle Herra, my father told me that for Friday's bad behavior with my uncle, he wanted to put a fight on my ass first. But he wouldn't beat me, he agreed with Uncle Herry to go with me and his sons to the barber every last Friday of the month for a new haircut. The sentence will last one year.
I had the shortest hair in the class, which earned me a lot of ridicule from my classmates. When the white spots on my head were overgrown with about 5/8 inch long hair, I sat in the barber's chair again to remove them thoroughly.




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