Fifth Friday at Manny's -- He's Back! by Manny

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The longhaired barber, Manny, with his showy mane of shoulder-length, chestnut-colored hair with fiery auburn highlights is back! And he's up to his old tricks of inflicting short haircuts on the men who take a seat in his shop. He's raised the ante, this time....


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The fact that June had a fifth Friday made my barbering juices kick in strong from the moment that I flipped the page of the calendar and saw the little half box at the end of the month. Fifth Friday was the periodic treat I gave myself to cut loose and give an unsuspecting thatch of hair a thorough scalping!

The "lucky" man could be a regular or a complete stranger. That said, two things that did not change: 1) the mane in question was very nice, plush, well-tended hair, and 2) the haircut was a LOT shorter than client requested.

I would play the field all morning, waiting for my perfect Fifth Friday or "FF" fix. I tended to be rather picky, to make the experience most memorable. But, if the afternoon came and no FF cut had been given, then I lowered my standards to make sure there would be a big pile of hair on the floor to sweep up by the end of the day.

Throughout the whole of June, I would analyze my clients as they entered thinking of FF....and quite frequently I regretted that June 30 had not yet arrived. There was more than one regular I had in mind to shear mercilessly. I would much have preferred to inflict a much shorter-than-requested haircut on a daily basis, but there was the business angle to consider (and my reputation). For that reason, I restrained myself to the infrequent FF. For business reasons, I also had never opted to unleash on any regular who tipped well.

But, things were about to change....

Friday, June 30th had started with a great sense of anticipation. As I turned the sign on the door to "open," I wondered who would be my lucky fellow? I picked up my brush and ran it through my glorious mane of shimmering chestnut-colored hair. Perhaps my FF treat would be someone with hair as long as mine! I was pumped up to identify my catch.

But, an awful wait ensued. No one came in for the first hour and a half. It felt interminable. And, when a car finally pulled into the lot, it was a geezer with thinning wisps. The whole morning passed without any worthy candidate. What a bummer! As I ate my microwave meal in back, I told myself to lower the standard. After lunch, however, the waiting game began again. I could not remember a slower Friday!

Then, at 2 p.m. my heart rate sped up as a Cadillac pulled into the lot. Mr. Standish! He stepped out of the car and glanced at himself in the window's reflection. His thick mane of lustrous hair was swept back into an executive coif. So full, so shiny! He smoothed it into place with both hands and smiled approvingly. Mr. Standish was the king of tippers! My stomach was in knots. Once he had accidentally handed me two twenty-dollar bills and said to keep the change even after I pointed out two were stuck together. "You're a great barber," he said as he insisted I'd earned the generous tip with my perfect trim.

Mr. Standish greeted me cheerfully as he entered the shop. His hair was considerably longer than normal. Instead of to mid-collar in back, it completely covered his starched Paul Frederick dress shirt. He slipped out of his Christian Dior smart casual jacket and hung it on the hall tree in the waiting area.

Then he stood, smiling, awaiting my invitation to take a seat. The shop was empty except for the two of us.

"No wait today," Mr. Standish commented as he eased into the barber chair which was facing the mirrored counter.

"It's been slow all day," I said as I examined his thick, glossy brown hair. "Seems like it's been a while since you've had a haircut." I complimented his nice tan.

"Ah, yes, I've been on vacation. Skipped my visit in May," Mr. Standish noted.

"So, a bit shorter today? More off than your normal trim?" I asked, casting the cape.

"I suppose so," he conceded quickly, shifting in the chair.

I smoothed his hair with my hands. Oh, what a wonderful silken feel! I glanced at the large set of Oster's. Mr. Standish had never been clipped before -- only scissor trims.

How I desperately wanted to make him my FF client!! Send his coif to the barbershop floor and watch him slink out fondling stubble.

"Do you mind if I read on my phone while you do your thing with my hair? I have some urgent business," Mr. Standish explained politely. "And turn down the TV a tad? Gee, I'm being such a fussy pill!"

"Of course, sir," I replied. "You got off early today?"

"Well, it's just a break. I need to get back for an evening reception with new potential clients. I need to lay it on thick! Thought I might have the shag taken care of before that," he said eying the padding of dark hair that gave him a handsome, power executive look.

"It's gotten so long and bulky," I said, brushing the copious forelock trying to pat it into place. "I might need to employ the thinning shears a bit. Amazing how long and thick your hair has gotten."

Mr. Standish lost himself in his phone and I gently eased his head forward. As I came low, a waft of the expensive shampoo enveloped me. How I wanted Mr. Standish brutally shorn! 'Do it!' a small voice within urged. 'You deserve it!'

Suddenly my internal conflict subsided. I decided Mr. Standish would be my FF fun. While he was engrossed with his emails, the unsuspecting business exec would have his first experience with the clippers. Quick, powerful and BRUTALLY short up the back. The soft padding of hair would be stripped off into a crisp, aggressively short taper.

I reached for the clippers. My hand trembled as I took them an ensured the #1 blade was in place. I shouldn't, I told myself....Mr. Standish was the best of clients!

Just as I was about to snap them on, Mr. Standish's copious forelock slipped and down in front of his eyes. His emails were obliterated from sight, no doubt....

"Oh, um, perhaps a bit of relief in front here, right off the bat?" Mr. Standish asked. "I can't read the phone with this hair in front of my eyes."

"Why, certainly," I replied exchanging the Osters for a set of barber shears.

I brushed the forelock down. A total veil fell over his deep green eyes. Such wonderful, dense hair!

"I've never seen your bangs so long, sir! Are you sure you just missed in May? Perhaps April as well?" I asked.

"Come to think of it, there was an Easter retreat at our church, Christ Episcopal. Oh, and a business trip in March to the west coast. Perhaps it's been several months," Mr. Stanish admitted. "You'll have to give me a good pruning."

GREEN LIGHT! I was covered!

I took the shears and very quickly scissored the forelock off shorter than it had ever been cut. To mid-forehead!

SNIP, SNIP, SNIP. I watched the first chunks of cut hair soil the pristine cape.

Instantly, the length was gone!

Mr. Standish stifled a bit of a surprised look, and blinked at he stared at the very short length being exhibited in the mirror. He turned his eyes down to the chunks of gloss in his lap and then they darted back to the mirror. I could sense a bit of controlled panic.

"Is this enough relief?" I asked innocently.

But, instead of waiting for a reply, I brought the shears back to the short bangs again and took off another half inch. There! That should make up for the missed visits," I announced.

I glanced at my own gorgeous mane, my own pride and joy! It fueled my vanity and pride.

Mr. Standish swallowed a bit and with a hint of resignation resumed with his emails.

I gently lowered his head a bit and snapped on the clippers.

I felt him jolt subtly as the purr of the clippers first sounded but kept my grip firm.

Then, fast as a pouncing jaguar, I did it!!

I drove the clippers up through his nape, tight to the scalp, a third of the way up and scooped off a shimmering mass of hair. White scalp contrasted vividly with the tanned neck. Oh, dear! He was going to get truly scalped! I remained composed and made a second drive -- this way up all the way to the crown, aggressively short. MILITARY length! Mr. Standish squirmed, but I kept him in place with my iron grip. Over and over, I drove the clippers up the back, peeling away all length of hair. A nice pile began to form at my feet.

Before tackling the sides, I decided to swivel the chair to face away from the mirror. He would get one singular shock at the end of his makeover from exec to recruit.

"Uh, Manny," his strained voice began as the chair slowly turned to face the waiting area.

"Yes, Mr. Standish?" I asked innocently.

He wanted to protest somehow, I was sure of it, but couldn't formulate his concern.

"Uh, when do you go on vacation?" he finally asked just to fill a conversation void.

"Next month, for two weeks. I'll have a retired barber friend named Larry fill in for me while I'm away. But, you're getting a shorter crop today, so you should be fine till I get back," I noted.

Mr. Standish reached out from under the cape and fondled a cut chunk of hair from his forelock. "A lot sure came off..." he noted as his voice drifted off.

"And, I'm not finished yet. I'm going to thin those bangs out somewhat. They are still so bulky and heavy....not something you should be having to deal with this summer," I said with an air of authority and finality.

Mr. Standish's silence was an indication of agreement, I decided. I just might retain him as a regular, I thought. He was decidedly more submissive than I expected.

Then I took the clippers to his side and began peeling off the padding of soft, lovely hair. Feeling more confident, I decided to give him more clues about his dramatic makeover. I flicked the shorn wad of hair so that it fell into the collection of cut hair on Mr. Standish's lap. Yes, he would be very aware that he was going to leave with a brutally short haircut.

"I hope there's some left up there on top," Mr. Standish joked weakly. "Like a I told you when I came in, I have some very important business to conduct this evening at the Imperial Hotel."

"You'll look very groomed with a tidy, short crop, Mr. Standish. I promise!" I replied.

Emboldened, I took the clippers to the top. I snagged a massive amount with my comb. All caution was tossed aside.

CLIPPER OVER COMB! Mounds of Mr. Standish's beautiful hair began falling onto the cape as I reduced the plush crown where his locks had been the longest. Shorter and shorter I took him. Closer and closer to the scalp. Oh, it was turning into a crewcut!! That was even shorter than I had planned for my FF splurge.

One last item remained. Yes, I would go all the way. In a flash, the clippers zipped off the remaining length of bangs. Mr. Standish looked almost boyish without his fancy executive coif!

The haircut was finally over. Time for the big reveal.

I swiveled the chair slowly back to the mirror. "There, how's this for you?" I chirped cheerfully.

Mr. Standish was stunned. "What?! Oh, my heavens. It's so short!" he wailed.

"Just wait to you see the back," I replied, as if he had been thrilled with the military length.

I showed off his new aggressive taper to the crown with a hand mirror, lingering so that the impact sunk in.

Mr. Standish gulped helplessly. "What made you think....?" he stammered awkwardly.

I unfastened the cape and carefully withdrew it.

Then, I shook with a bit of a flourish. His hair was everywhere, except on his head. He stumbled out of the chair in a daze.

"A bit shorter, that's all. If you don't like it, no need to pay, Mr. Standish," I said cavalierly. I had already decided he would not be coming back to me for another haircut. I also concluded that my fun had been worth the loss of a valued client. And there remained a glimmer of hope that....

"No, I will pay you. It's just that I've never had such a short haircut..." Mr. Standish continued, whining. He looked up and examined his truncated fringe in the mirror. "So short here...."

Then he fondled the stubs almost wistfully. His hand moved up to the closely clipped pelt on top. Finally, a slight smile.

"A cool, refreshing length," I noted. "That length pelt can feel very stimulating!"

"Yes," he agreed, albeit reluctantly. Then his hand explored the back. "But this is almost bald back here. It feels like sandpaper!"

"I'm beginning to think you do not like your haircut, sir. I insist that you do not pay me, Mr. Standish!" I said as I returned the $20 bill and walked him quickly to the door.

The reverse psychology work. "No, it's fine. Just a little shorter than normal," he said, babbling to try to make me feel better. "Here, to prove I'm fine with the haircut, here's a tip." He handed me a second twenty dollar bill.

I smiled broadly and pocketed it gratefully. I still didn't know whether I would ever have Mr. Standish under my cape again.

After the Cadillac had whirled out of the parking lot, I went back to my waiting game. Still a paucity of clients. I entertained myself by reliving step-by-step Mr. Standish's makeover in my mind. That, and staring at the huge amount of cut hair on the floor. Such an artistic carpet.

Finally, closing time approached. I got to my most pleasant task -- sweeping up the vast array of clippings. So much fun to see the pile being corralled by the broom grow larger and larger.

I was just finishing dumping the third overflowing dustpan full of Mr. Standish's cut locks into the trash when an unfamiliar phone ringtone sounded out from the counter near the barber chair. In all that shock and banter after the haircut, Mr. Standish had left his phone!

I picked up the phone and saw a photo of the caller just as it went into voice mail. "Arriving at the Imperial Hotel in five minutes, Gary. Quick update. Good news! We'll have two senior brass for the demo -- navy is sending Admiral Sotirios who is the same rank as the army's General Imholte. Make sure they are co-located in equal positions at the main table. Observing military protocol will help you secure this lucrative contract. See you soon!"

I needed to get Mr. Standish his phone. I locked the shop and made my way to the Imperial Hotel even though downtown was in the opposite direction of my house. A sign in the hotel lobby indicated the direction to the conference room and reception area.

Then I saw Mr. Standish in the midst of a small gaggle of military men, all decked out in fancy uniform. Lots of scrambled egg on the cap visors!

I approached the group and held up his phone. "You forgot this, Mr. Standish!"

"Oh, Manny! You are a life saver! I can't believe you came all the way downtown to bring me the phone," Mr. Standish gushed.

"Gentlemen, this is my barber, Manny!" Mr. Standish said, as he quickly introduced me to the group.

"He cuts an excellent military length," one of the officers commented, eying Mr. Standish' crewcut.

Mr. Standish blushed a bit, "Yes, I found that out today." Then his hand briefly touched the tapered back.

Mr. Standish winked at me. He drew me off to the side, away from the group. "My colleagues from the firm were shocked to see my new haircut, but the military brass have been eying it with approval."

"So, it's a keeper?" I asked, hopefully.

"I was wondering," Mr. Standish said, as he squirmed nervously on his feet. "See the colonel there, my main contact? The extremely handsome officer without a cap on?"

"A flattop?!" I stammered. "Like his?!"

"Exactly! With a landing strip on top and all!" Mr. Standish exclaimed. "I might as well go all the way!" I said with great enthusiasm.

As I left the hotel, I wondered when the day would come where I would opt for a flattop....landing strip and all! My beautiful hair on the barbershop floor.....

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