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Take the plunge by BuzzmeHT


I rarely get my haircut how I want it. Not because my barber cuts it shorter that I want to. No, he would never know how short I would really want him to take me… but because I’m quite the perfectionist when it comes to my hair. I like to play it safe: scissor cut, shorter on the sides, just a trim on top. Those directions make sure I don’t get scalped and, usually, my hair on top is even longer than what I had anticipated. I dread having my hair cut though, I can never be sure if my quiff will be shorter than I like it, specially when I try a new barber. That’s the thing, I love playing with fire. It’s been a while since I found a barber that I truly trusted, but I recently moved to a new city and even though I have tried four different barbers in a year, I didn’t quite like the outcomes. At best, they could replicate a bland version of the picture I showed them. I was repeatedly getting the thing I hated the most: a generic, basic, safe look. So, I tried again hoping this time I’d find my perfect barber.

Here's the thing, if you look a lot of haircuts on Insta all the time, you’ll get sponsored posts of every new barbershop you have nearby. That’s somewhat useful. And there I was mindlessly browsing when it popped up: "H&T Barbershop". In the picture, the freshest of military cuts: shaved whitewalls all the way to the top, with a classic and outstanding blend to a finger cut top. Well, actually, the top might have been clipper cut too, but it had some flair to it. I was instantly turned on.

I clicked on the profile and every single picture was outstanding and, more interestingly, there wasn’t a guy in that feed that hadn’t received a severe scalping with the clippers one way or the other. There where recons, fades, crews, burrs and even the odd military flattop. There was only a picture of an older guy in his 40s with what appeared to be the shortest of scissors cuts. Barely and inch on top. F*** me, what kind of barbershop was this?

Obviously, I fantasized with going to that place immediately, but it looked too dangerous for my taste. It was impossible that this barbershop only did such extreme cuts to every client, right? Maybe they only uploaded those haircuts because they liked them the most or they were specialized in them. Yeah, sure. I read the description of the profile: "Take the plunge. All cuts by Aidan."

Aidan. I looked for pics of the barber, there were only a couple glimpses of this guy in a mirror here and there. I couldn’t tell anything about him, this guy was obviously all about his work. No ego posts, no click-bait videos, only barbershop craft at it’s purest. Every haircut as unique as severe. I knew Aidan had an eye for detail and that he loved scalping other men.

I couldn’t sleep, I tossed around in bed for hours thinking of Aidan. What he could do to my long pomp if I were in his chair. How would it happen? Would he ask me what I wanted? Would he take charge and do as he pleased? I got the feeling he was the "Barber knows best" type. I opened his Instagram again and got immediately hard.

I did my little ritual and went to Google Maps to check the reviews for the place, it was so new there weren’t that many. Most of them were 5 stars: "Best haircut of my life", "A repeat customer", "Best fade in town", "He knew exactly what to suggest"… I eyed a 1-star review, maybe a customer that wasn’t that happy with Aidan being so clipper-happy... Boy, I was wrong. It was written in all caps: "Aidan is full of it, he refused to go shorter even after I asked him to. Had to buzz it myself when I got home." What the f***? Was this the same Aidan of all the ultra-shorn crops on Insta? I saw he had replied with a comment: "I’m sorry you didn’t like the cut, even if I offered it on the house. I take pride in my work and won’t execute a cut when I think it’s plain wrong. You have exceptional hair, a basic buzzcut wasn’t going to make it justice. Aidan".

Who the f*** was this guy? He wasn’t the classic sadistic scalper, that’s for sure. Maybe I had judged him too soon. And he was "the best fade in town", that sounded great. I always wanted to get a fade, but showing skin on my sides and back had always seemed a little too edgy for me. But Aidan’s haircuts were so classic and crisp it could be worth it to try it. Maybe.

I saw a link to book an appointment and clicked on it, just to continue the fantasy a little longer. He was quite popular, there were barely any spots left for the next few days. But there was one right after the time I got out of work. I toyed with that idea, I would have to go straight from the office which meant I would have to go in my suit and tie. Would Aidan allow a longer cut for a young professional? I opened his Insta feed and rubbed one off looking at the most perfect crewcut I’d seen in my life. And I fell sleep.

I got out of the shower sleepy as hell and looked at my hair. Not really long, but the sides were quite puffy and it was in that stage where you should get a trim to look sharp, but you can still work the blow dryer a little harder and extend you haircut a couple of weeks. I put a little pomade on and combed every hair into my kind of a modern quiff. It looked OK. And I hated it wasn’t as great as I knew my hair, with the proper haircut, could be. I grab my phone on a whim, whishing the free appointment was still there, and secretly hoping that it wasn’t, so I’d have and excuse. There it was. I froze for a moment… and filled in the form.

DING! I instantly got a message confirming my appointment. I’d meet Aidan that afternoon.

I tried to take my mind off it and work, but it was hard not to think about Aidan. I didn’t even know if I was going to be in charge of my haircut. I didn’t want to get scalped! OK, I desperately wanted to be scalped, but I was too scared to ask for it.

I got out of work just in time to make it to the barbershop. I thought about going home instead, but I needed a haircut and he was a great barber. I’m sure all of it was on my head, this fetish makes you imaging things that aren’t really true most of the time. Most barbers are professionals and want their clients to enjoy their haircuts. I remembered Aidan’s reply to the review. He would not scalp me if I didn’t want to.

I was walking so fast that I got to the place five minutes early. I stood in front of the shop like a deer in headlights. There it was "H&T Barbershop". I entered without thinking, it was now or never, I was about to get cold feet and I knew it. I immediately regretted it.

The first thing I saw was the floor covered in hair. The sound of the clippers sent chills down my spine like a thunder. My eyes went up and met the Osters in the barber’s hand, yep, that tracked. A deep, masculine voice greeted me: "You must be my six. Take I seat, be right with you".

There he was, Aidan on the flesh. Big and strong, but not in a menacing way. Tall as they come. And with the sharpest high and tight combover I had ever seen. And the shortest, I bet he could barely comb it because it was so closely cropped. No wonder he needed to use pomade to keep it somewhat combed to the side. The sides and back looked freshly shaved. He looked great. And right then, when I felt my mouth going dry as I was looking at his nape, I knew I was in trouble.

He was giving the finishing touches to his previous client. Not that there was much hair to be taken care of by now, but Aidan keep staring at every little detail and going over and over with the clippers to make every just right. He was executing the haircut with military precision.

And judging by the floor and all the hair on the cape and execution had taken place on that chair minutes before. There was enough hair there to know that the man that was now sporting a brand-new Caesar cut had a long business cut, at least six inches when he had gotten in the chair. And he had received the scalping of his life for sure, the sides and back where clipper cut to something like a #2 and tapered to a #1 or even a half-guard. I knew my guards even if they had never touched my hair above my neckline.

Aidan kept going clipper-over-comb on this man’s fringe over and over, taking it down closer and closer until there was barely a fringe. That was one of my biggest fears, not having a fringe to comb. I really liked how my long quiff framed by face and running my fingers through it.

Aidan finally asked his client’s opinion: "How’s that length looking for you?". The man in the chair turned his hair around a bit: "Not what I had in mind, but you were right. I look at least ten years younger". He did, he could be in his 50s, but he looked like a fine 40-something silver fox to me. Aidan gave his verdict: "You look amazing. Thanks for trusting me".

Aidan shook the cape and a rain of long tresses hit the floor right by my feet. The man in the chair was also in suit and tie, I gulped. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t think. I usually loved to see the guy before of me getting scalped, but something told me this was the universe warning me. Did I really want a military haircut? Was Aidan going to give me any choice in the matter?

The fox was already paying for his haircut, he gave himself a once-over in the mirror, truly satisfied: "I don’t know how you convinced me to do it. But I really do love it". Aidan smiled at him and nonchalantly extended his hand to make sure the fox’s cut was exactly right before leaving: "My pleasure. Come back in two weeks at max to keep it fresh. OK?". The fox nodded and headed out.

I was alone with Aidan. That was it. F*** f*** fuuuck. "Give me a minute to clean up, OK?", Aidan smiled at me. Was it a smile? I felt like a prey, but he really didn’t give me hunter vibes. Was that his trick? I couldn’t take my eyes off his haircut. He swept the white floor, cleaning up the canvas for his next masterpiece. It hit me that it was going to be me. My hair.

He patted the chair: "Come on, big guy. I don’t want to keep you waiting". He took my suit jacked off and I sat on the chair in a daze. I looked around, my brain going into my default "safe" mode, already chickening, my "what will people say" survival instinct kicking in, in overdrive. My mind was already packing: "Tell him you just want a trim", "Just a trim", "Maybe you’ll save some hair", "F***, he’s going to scalp you", "You don’t want to be scalped, it’s just a fantasy", "Tell him you want just a trim. Tomorrow you’ll regret it, "Get up and leave NOW!!!".

My eyes darted to a clock in the wall that had just struck 18:00. In that second Aidan sat on the counter looking at me, ready, just in time. With military precision.

"OK. So, tell me, what are we doing today?". Aidan asked me with the biggest smile on his face.

I hated my self for what I said next:

"I’m looking for just a trim. Scissor cut, please".


***SPOILER: Part 2 will be called "Try something new***




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