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Long Curly Hair Meets Brandon by Geoff


Mine is the classic story of man versus hair. I wear my hair long, I guess
pretty long so that it just touches the top of my butt. It’s super curly,
thick and sort of blondish brown.

It’s a lot of work to maintain a lifestyle with this kind of demand on your
hair. It takes almost two hours to wash, condition and then eventually dry my
hair. A lot of times I let it dry on it’s own but then it gets crazy curly and
it looks huge. To combat the problem, I go to the salon and get my hair
shampooed and conditioned twice a week. If I didn’t condition it this much, I
wouldn’t be able to get a comb through it. My buddy Matt takes great care of
my hair and has been tending to it for about 12 years. He works in the salon
four days a week and at a barbershop just outside the nearby Marine base one
day a week.

My hair seems to create a bit of a carnival atmosphere whenever I go into the
salon. Women go crazy and want to run their hands through it while balding
guys look at me in disgust. To be honest, I love the attention. Because of
the bulk of hair, I usually wear it pulled back into a ponytail where I
usually forget about it except at the salon. When I wear it out of the band,
I have had a lot of women (and men) come and ask me if they can run their
hands through it. I almost always say yes. Because of the frequent
conditioning, it is takes no effort to run your hands through it.

Last Thursday when I had my usually appointment with Matt, he called me early
in the morning and asked me if we could hook up at the marine barbershop
called “Off Base”. He would bring all of his stuff and meet me there at
three. I said sure and that was that.

Due to the Iraqi war, a lot of the marines are deployed so business is really
pretty slow. I figured I would be by myself when I got there. Sure enough,
things were slow and Off Base decided it needed to advertise more to get
additional business. Matt asked me if I would like to be in the ad since it
paid about $500. I said sure, “what do I have to do”. Just sit in the chair
while the guy with the camera takes plenty of pictures of us. “No problem,
I’m in,” I said.

So I get into Matt’s red leather chair and he puts a paper neck protector
around me and throws on a white cape with the Marine Corps logo front and
center. So he struggles awhile to get all my hair out from under the cape.
He makes sure that my hair is cascading down the front of the cape, careful
not to cover the marine logo.

So Matt picks up the clippers, turns them on so the room is alive with a
buzzing noise. The photo shoot begins and dozens and dozens of pictures are
taken. Finally, the woman from the ad agency said that Matt’s tight black tee
shirt doesn’t look right and that he should be wearing a white barber’s
jacket. Problem is that Matt doesn’t have one and Brandon, the other barber,
is at least twice as big as he was. No way could Matt wear Brandon’s jacket.

After discussions back and forth, they decide to replace Matt with Brandon who
looks more like a “marine corps barber”. You have to give it to him; he must
weigh 230 and be about 6’5” tall with a really tight horseshoe flattop.

Shooting begins again with Brandon picking up Matt’s clippers, flicking them on
and grabbing a handful of my hair. They try different shots, grabbing hair
on one side and then the other and finally on top. Brandon seems nervous but
he doesn’t say anything. To help break the ice I tell him that his haircut
looks great on him. He says thanks and drops the handful of hair he is
holding. He slides his fingers through the top of my hair and down the back.
He then runs his hands through both sides and says, “you’ve got the perfect
hair for it. Nice and pretty”. I’m thinking yeah, I should be a model.

His hand goes back into the top again and stops with his palm on my forehead.
I notice that it’s impossible to move. The next thing I know a three foot
length of curl is in my lap and then another and another. I am unable to
speak while Brandon has shaved the left side of my head clean with what I
would later find out was a 00000 blade. Hair is covering my head and my lap
and I can’t see anything. The clippers never stop and neither do the
photographers.

Brandon finally releases his grip and turns off the clippers. I’m in a sort of
daze and I hear a loud snap and the clippers are on again. It’s is the most
relaxing feeling I have ever had. He locks his hand onto the back of my skull
and shaves the top. It’s apparent that the clippers are riding directly on my
scalp. He runs them back and forth many times. I feel warm lather being
applied to what seemed like all over my head and the straight razor shaves the
sides and a clean stripe down the middle of my head.

He turns me to face the mirror. The cape is so covered with my curls that you
can’t even see the Marine Corps logo any more. Brandon has a gigantic grin on
his face and says, “pretty cool don’t you think”? I reach to touch the side
of my head and feel the smooth white skin. I look exactly like Brandon. Matt
comes in from outside and runs over to the chair and starts rubbing the back
of my head, “what the hell happened”? “Brandon just decided to start shaving
it,” I said. “I thought you wanted your hair cut like mine, “struggled
Brandon. “I said I liked your haircut not that I wanted my hair cut like
yours”. To be honest, I couldn’t stop looking in the mirror. The sides were
pure white against my well-tanned face. I told Brandon not to worry about it
because it looked awesome. He then rubbed some kind of oil on the sides and
strip to make it super shiny.

Matt was kind of pissed since he knew there would be a whole lot fewer trips to
him for hair washing. Brandon spoke up and told Matt not to worry; I would be
in a lot to have my horseshoe flat cleaned up.

With the $500 and the new horseshoe it was quite a day. By the way, women
still ask to rub my head.



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