Uncle Alpha Male Knows Best by Manny

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A special shout-out to Linus for his awesome description of the barber shop!

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"Connor!" his Uncle Charlie bellowed. "Come here! I've got something for you!" The booming voice filled the whole house even though Connor was close by in the kitchen.

Connor timidly stepped into the living room where his father was chatting with his uncle and aunt who had just arrived for a weekend stay.

His uncle reached into his small suitcase and pulled out a set of electric hair clippers.

"It's time you got a proper haircut! All that girly hair in your face. Next thing we know, you'll be trying out for the cheerleading squad. I don't know how you allow it, Jim!" Uncle Charlie scolded his younger brother.

Conner froze in horror at the site of the clippers. He was tongue-tied and fearful of offering up any answer.

"Don't mind him, Conner," Aunt Elizabeth said in a soothing voice. "He's always a bit more belligerent when he gets a lather-shaved horseshoe flattop at the barbershop. It's like the testosterone is unleashed!" Aunt Elizabeth blushed a bit at the mention of testosterone.

Conner mopped his mass of blond hair nervously from his face and stared at his uncle's flattop. So much white skin showing -- it was a bit frightening to look at. Not frightening in a scary way, but perhaps more in an intimidating way.

"No thanks, Uncle Charlie. No amateur haircuts for me," Conner stammered as he slipped out of the room.

"Oh, so your son prefers to pay big bucks at a ladies' salon where they fuss over and pamper those pretty golden locks?" Uncle Charlie teased his brother.

"Conner and I both get our hair cut at Great Clips -- we're waiting from the coupon that usually comes about now for an $8 haircut. It's back-to-school time," Jim replied.

"I'll save you $16, plus tips," Uncle Charlie continue, brandishing the clippers. "Remember the first time I gave you a baldy cut, little brother?"

"Yep, sure do. Dad was away on a business trip and you convinced Mom you could cut my hair," Jim said.

"I grabbed those curtain bangs -- one after the other -- and chopped them off near the scalp. Then, after a bit more random hacking, you looked like a frightful scarecrow..." Charlie recalled as recounting the event dissolved into peels of loud, boisterous laughter.

"Then, you unleashed the clippers and gave me a baldy. The garage floor was carpeted with my hair," Jim said, finishing the story that happened some thirty years earlier.

"Oh, how Mom wailed to see her little golden boy clipped bald!" Charlie recalled gleefully. "All of his pretty blond locks swept up and tossed into the trashcan!"

"Well, if Conner won't let me barber him, I suppose it will just be you, brother. Where shall we set up Charlie's Barber Shop? The garage?" Charlie asked.

Jim ran his fingers through his dense mane. His blond hair had darkened somewhat over the years, but it was still full of body and had a lovely golden glow. And, there was no denying his shaggy business cut was definitely in need of a good pruning.

"If you had a broader range than buzzcuts, I might take you up on your offer," Jim said, casually dipping his toe into a danger zone.

Jim really had no intention of letting his brother scalp him, but he thought he could draw attention away from Conner's moptop by dangling some alternate target in front of Charlie. It was going to be a long weekend!

"I've gotten a bit more experience over the years. You and Conner -- bowlcuts! How about it?" Charlie teased. "Elizabeth, go into the kitchen and ask Anne if she has a mixing bowl I can use."

Elizabeth left in a hurry, happy to be dismissed from the brotherly banter.

Jim stared a bit at Charlie's horseshoe flattop. It was SO extreme! For a moment, Jim imagined himself in a barber's chair with the clippers taking off the first swath hair in his transformation from shaggy businesscut to a shoe. He felt hard and excited at the thought.

"I don't believe I've ever seen your hair this short, Charlie," Jim commented. "You've had flattops before, for sure, even landing strips. But a shoe....?"

"What do you think?" Charlie asked. "Does it suit me? Viril and manly?!" He turned all the way around so that Jim could take in the full impact of his lather shaved silken scalp.

"If I didn't work in a conservative office environment...." Jim said hesitatingly.

"Bull crap! If you want to get shoed, I'll take you to the barber shop myself. There must be a decent one around here. Point to me and tell the barber 'just like my brother's haircut.'" Charlie exclaimed in an animated tone. Or, better yet, I'll do the explanation of what you need.

Charlie whipped out his phone and started googling "barber shops nearby".

"What about this one? The Silver Clippers," Charlie commented. "Only 8 minutes away."

"Hey, let's not get carried away. I was just fantasizing....I'm not going to be getting any horseshoe flattop!" Jim exclaimed. "Besides, the Silver Clippers is a place for geezers to get their eyebrows and ear hair trimmed and kids to get scalped. It's got a bit of a reputation...."

Suddenly, Charlie's hand swung over and he grasped Jim by his mane. He yanked him down onto the couch. "Remember when we used to wrestle?" In a few seconds Jim was pinned to the living room floor.

Charlie towered over him and was playing with his floppy locks. "All this is coming off -- either in the garage or at the Silver Clippers."

Jim somehow enjoyed feeling pinned and helpless....

"Lunch is almost ready," came Anne's voice from the kitchen. "Go wash up. Conner, lunch!"

To Jim's amazement, he felt his bat hardening. He needed to shield is private excitement as he was getting up off the floor. The idea of his brother forcing him into a haircut was stoking excitement. It was such a far cry from the humiliation he suffered as a teen after his brother had inflicted a baldy cut on him. Oh, how the kids at school laughed when he showed up without his center part and copious curtain bangs.

Lunch ensued without any drama and some casual family conversation. Conner kept quiet, eager to avoid his Uncle Charlie's attention. But, he couldn't help sneaking peaks at the mean, clean haircut. It was frightfully awesome! Almost no hair and tons of skin! No one would mess with him on the ball field if he sported one of those.

To everyone's surprise, as dessert finished, Jim announced, "Charlie and I are going to run over to the Silver Clippers for a bit. He's convinced me that I need a haircut,"

Anne's eyes got wide as saucers, "Not a....."

But Conner cut off her words. "Can I come too?"

Uncle Charlie beamed broadly. "I'll make men out of both of them yet!"

As they got in Uncle Charlie's car, he announced, "I'm paying for the haircuts, and I'm telling the barber just how much is coming off. Understood?"

Then he reached over and stroked his brother's glossy locks. "You won't be needing a brush or blow dryer, pal! Understood?"

Jim squirmed in the car chair. Then he ran his fingers nervously through his hair. "It'll be a big change!"

From the back seat, Conner kept studying his uncle's haircut. His visit was actually turning into something exciting.

"When you're in the chair, Buddy," Uncle Charlie suddenly said, turning back slightly to look at Conner, "no whimpering or sassing. You sit nice and quiet while the barber cuts that mop. Understood?"

"Yes, Uncle Charlie," Conner replied respectfully.

The Silver Clippers Barber Shop had been frozen in time since its 1962 heyday. The locals used to joke that the only thing that ever changed in there was the lightbulbs, and it was nearly true. Located on the end of a small plaza, the whole front of the shop was plate glass. The neon glow from the Barber Shop sign obliterated the view, but you could always see a flurry of activity through the flickering tubes.

Five throne-like chairs faced a rather sparse wall with a bench for waiting customers. The chairs were rarely if ever turned to the mirror behind them. Though there were five chairs, only three stations were in operation. This meant a longer wait time of course. On busy days, the two vacant barber chairs would serve as extra waiting space….and they offered close-up views of the brutal shearing going on in the occupied chairs.

Each barber station in operation had a row of four or five heavy duty clippers hanging below their narrow Formica counters. The counters were littered with scissors, clipper blades and the occasional product or tube of wax. The shop specialized in no-nonsense clipper cuts. The door announced, "We Do Flattops" and the nearest station to the window had a tin sign proclaiming "Flattop Specialist". The barbers all wore matching royal blue tunics. Simple and nondescript, they zipped up the front, protecting their clothes from the torrent of hair clippings throughout the day.

The cotton capes with a narrow double pinstripe were clean but had clearly been used for decades. They were fastened tightly with a clip in the back on top of an equally tight neck strip. The floor of the shop was a wasteland of shorn hair. Usually, an inch or more deep around the barber chairs; they never swept up until the end of the day. Somehow, years and years of work had given the geezer barbers enough dexterity to shuffle around the piles of strewn locks without slipping or sliding. There was something graceful about how they moved about on top of the shorn hair. Customers climbing out of these barber chairs always had to step carefully through the heaps of hair on the floor, especially during the "back-to-school season" when lads from all over were brought for proper scalpings. The unswept hair was a sure sign of a trusted, popular barber shop!

When Uncle Charlie led his two relatives into The Silver Clippers, he smiled broadly. Yes, this was exactly the place his baby brother and nephew needed. It would be there new, regular barber shop.

The three barbers were busy, but looked up to greet the trio of new clients. The waiting area was full, so one of the barber's motioned for Conner to come sit in the empty barber throne next to him.

As he did, the lad nervously mopped his locks away from his blue eyes. Uncle Charlie had been right -- he was starting to look like a girl with such long hair.

The barbers made mundane conversation with their clients as they methodically worked through the waiting area. One after another went through the almost exact same sequence. The barber would point, the client would approach and sit, facing away from the mirror. The cape would go on with a bit of a flourish and be securely fastened in place. A word or two of instructions (but mainly the only words uttered were "the usual"). Then, it was head shoved down, clippers tight up the back, and clumps of wool adding to the piles of cut hair on the linoleum floor. No forelock was left longer than mid-forehead. The haircuts always finished with lather shaves around the ears and nape, a cloud of talcum in the duster, and the cape came up with a final flourish. After 15-20 minutes in the chair, the client left barbered or severely barbered. Boys got angled bangs and arches.

The barber at the "Flattop Specialist" chair pointed to Jim. "You're....NEXT!" he called.

Jim gave his shaggy businesscut one final look as he eased into the chair. He felt a bit giddy, thinking about the reactions at the office the next day.

Once the cape was in place, the barber asked, "New here?"

"Yep, first time. I'm needing a change," he said.

"Quite!" the barber affirmed. "So, what'll it be?"

He yanked the comb through Jim's thick, coarse blond hair.

Jim squirmed and worked up the courage to say it, "Like his, my brother's shoe." He pointed from under the cape.

The barber smiled and reached for his clippers. He called out to Charlie, "Mighty fine haircut you're sporting, brother! Tilt your head down so I can see how sparse your shoe is on top and the back."

Charlie was pleased to show of his handiwork.

Just as the first run of the clippers was going up the back of Jim's head, clearing everything off to the scalp, the other barber told Conner, "Over here, buddy! Let's put an end to that girly hair of yours!"

Conner was quick to swap chairs, glancing at his tresses a final time. But, once in the chair, he felt a bit nervous....almost a pit in his stomach. He squirmed to get comfortable.

"So, what'll it be?" the barber asked pro-forma.

Just as Conner was about to say he wanted a flattop like his uncle's, Charlie jumped up from the chair in the waiting area and came right up to the barber, "This lad needs a mushroom cut. Clip the stalk to the crown and leave the cap nice and full, down to the brow and just above the ears. He's not old enough to sport a shoe yet."

"But, Uncle Charlie, I'm 17!" Conner protested.

Jim thought he should intervene, but the barber kept a firm grip on his head, facing him directly down and staring into the cauldron of hair that was collecting in his lap. The long forelock still hung freely, blocking his view from what was transpiring in the next chair.

The barber began combing all of Conner's hair straight down. In front, it brushed his chin and in back it lapped his shoulders.

The barber knew who was in charge! "Sit up straight, son!" he ordered. Then, he began the first snips with the shears, right at the brow.

SNIP, SNIP, SNIP.

Long blond locks fell away. Conner's startled eyes were now visible.

SNIP, SNIP, SNIP.

The shears continued, just above his ears, sending six- and seven-inch locks to the cape and unveiling his rather large ears.

Uncle Charlie hovered, enjoying poor Conner's discomfort.

SNIP, SNIP, SNIP.

The barber's progress continued relentlessly.

"If you come home with almost no hair, your mother will weep bucket-loads. You're her little momma's boy and she likes you looking sweet and girly, I think. Same with your dad and our mother. I can still remember how she cried the day I gave him a baldy cut in the garage!" Uncle Charlie laughed.

Conner grimaced and endured the humiliation. The barber continued outlining the bowl with his shears.

SNIP, SNIP, SNIP.

The other ear was uncovered. So much blond hair piled up on the cape and at the barber's feet.

"How's this length for the mushroom cap?" the barber asked Uncle Charlie.

"Perfect!" he replied.

Charlie returned to the waiting area just in time to see the barber snag Jim's copious forelock with the comb and quickly take the whole mass off with the clippers.

In a flash, the forelock was history. The barber had Jim sit up straight so that he could begin the process of taking the top down.

Jim wanted to appeal to Charlie on Conner's behalf. A mushroom cut?! How humiliating! But, he didn't want to contradict Charlie publicly....plus, he reasoned Conner was old enough to manage his own affairs.

Conner's barber began with the clippers, shaving away all the hair beneath the mushroom cap and then moving quickly to create an undercut all the way to the crown. It had been a long time since he'd done a mushroom cut, but the reflexes came back naturally. There had been a time period when every lad under 18 was supporting a bi-level mushroom cut....

Jim's barber started lathering him up to scrape away all hair but the half-inch shoe he'd left around half the crown -- a shallow shoe like the man, his brother, calling the shots from the waiting area.

"Love the feel of the razor on my scalp," Jim cooed from the chair.

"And, you'll love the way it looks too," Charlie remarked. "When you strut into your office tomorrow, expect some crisp, snappy salutes! That haircut gives you authority and manly presence. Not for wimps."

When the barber swiveled the chair around, Jim felt like a new person. "Oh, it's fantastic!" he exclaimed. He couldn't wait for the cape to come off so he could feel the hairless back of his head. Such shiny, smooth skin all over! He felt a surge of testosterone.

The cape came off, and Jim adroitly stepped over the collection of cut hair that was deepest nearer the chair. Then he caught a glimpse of poor Conner for the first time. The bowlcut made him look like a 10-years old!

It was time to set things right. Jim strut over to Conner's chair. "Son, you're old enough to choose your own haircut."

"Hey!" Charlie objected from the waiting area.

"Zip it, Charlie!" Jim snapped.

"Do you want to see how you look now?" the barber asked. "This is one of the finest mushroom caps I ever created."

"Yeah," Conner replied.

As his new look came into view in the mirror, Conner began to grin....and then smile broadly. He reached his hand out from under the cape and tussled the long locks on top. Then, he felt the shaved stalk. Oh, the combo was heavenly. Conner flicked his head about and was delighted with the look and feel of the fluid cap, catching and reflecting the glow of the neon. The best of both worlds -- long and short.

"This is perfect!" he exclaimed. "I love my new look. So unique! And since I'm old enough to decide for myself how I look, I'm going to have my ear pierced, too. A diamond stud will look so smart!"

Jim gulped. He had not expected this turn of event. But he let Conner's decision stand.

Charlie gloated from the sidelines. "He's going off the reservation, Jimbo!"

The three emerged from the barber shop chattering and exploring their new looks. Jim with his shoe and Conner with his bowl both felt newly liberated and assertive!

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