The first hair wash, more detail. by Keith

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A few days ago I submitted an account about my first hair wash experience as I teenager. I've had time to remember this and felt my first attempt didn't portray how I was feeling at the time. So hopefully this will be more enjoyable and amusing account for you:

It was summer 1996,i had just turned 17. For my birthday I got new Italian boot it jeans and a checked shirt. Back then I had lush, thick, wavey, oily, greasy collar length dark brown hair and a mustache, to try and look more grown up. 😏. That morning I didn't both to wash my hair in the shower. I just put some gel into it, which, unknown to me was pointless.

My mum was taking me to a large department store in Birmingham. On the 3rd floor was an Italian hair salon for men. There was a reception desk at the front with a seating area behind it. Along one wall was 2 chairs, with 6 across the main wall and another 2 on the opposite wall. In front of each deep red chair was a white basin.

My mother wanted me to get a haircut. As we were going out that evening, so I obliged, not for one moment thinking this would be a salon visit I would never forget.

As we checked in and waited in the seating area, along with others watching their menfolk being worked on, a noticed a guy being prepared for a shampoo!

He was a six footer, burly rugby type guy with a handle bar mustache and a greasy jet black mullet. His hairdresser was a 5ft slim lady. She managed to get this enormous Cape round his broad shoulders and tucked the towel snuggly round him. She started the water, it come gushing out round the sink. She ushered him to lean over. His shampoo had started. Within moments his greasy mullet was soaked, dangling over his face and then she applied thick shampoo. He lathered up and she scrubbed him. Wow I thought to myself.

Then I was called to the chair next to him, in the middle of the salon. My hairdresser was a lady, aged late 40s to early 50s, around 5'1. I sat in this chair, a nervous 5'10 adolescent. She proceeded to put this enormous gown round me, reaching down to my ankles,then tape round my neck.

She then proceeded to examine my rather, oil, greasy, dandruff and gel ladened hair. I just thought she would spray water on it.

"mmm... It needs a GOOD wash"

Eh? She said more to my mum than me. My mother come over from her seat and looked at my hair.

"Yes, he could do with it, don't you agree son?"

A wash! Oh my, I had to agree, the decision had been made by both of them. I was to be shampooed! 😬

"Errr... Yeah" I nervously replied,watching as the hairdresser got out a towel from the small cabinet to my right. As she snuggly fitted it round me I looked into the sink which soon my head would be dunked into. Just then she was called to the desk. I was all bundled up, large gown, tape a plastic cover and towel round my shoulders.

I nervously smiled at my mum, we said nothing. I felt butterflies in my stomach. My temples began to sweat and due to this enormous gown I was not able to mop my brow or my sideburns. The mullet man's shampoo and conditioner was finished. His head was all wrapped up in a towel and I could hear the gurgling of water from his sink. So fixated I was on him I failed to notice my hairdresser had returned and stated the water to my sink. It came gushing out of the shower head. My mother was transfixed by it, so was I, my head was about to go under it. 😉

I glanced round the salon. Was anyone else being shampooed? Surely someone was, there was another 9 full chairs with blokes in them! No, it was just me😊. I looked into the mirror as she adjusted the temperature. She was on my right, my mum was standing on my left an the big sink in front. Now the sweat was running off my brow, temples and sideburns. I could sense and see others watching this was I the main attraction? Yes! Could I do anything about it? No.

The temperature was reached. The lady, now looking at my clamy dirty hair, probably relishing a challenge, spoke:

"OK son, bend forward shut your eyes"



I glanced at my mum, she was just smiling. As a bend over the sink came closer and her hand gently pushed my head under the sink, I duly closed my eyes. My first salon shampooing had begun!

Within seconds my hair was soaked, warm water cascading through it, her firm fingerss going through it, dangling infont of my face as I peeked through one eye. Then the first shampoo commenced. I could feel my hair lathered up every bit of it, even my mustache was getting wet. I could just here over the sound of all this:

"I'm going to shampoo him another 2 times and then apply the conditioner". The lady informed my mum.

Wow! This was brilliant. More shampooing, more rinsing and lathering. This lasted at least 10-15 glorious minutes. I could sense others were watching me, my head deep in the sink, full of suds and water.

After it was over the towel was wrapped tight round my soaking but clean head. Now was the cut.

After that it was time for mum to pay, £22 if memory serves, and go.

But before I left I noticed another young lad, around my age, with a greasy dark blond mop hairstyle being prepared for a shampoo. His glasses were taken off, the water was running in the sink, the hairdresser was checking the temperature. He looked nervous as he bend over and his shampooing experience started. 😉

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed this version.
Keith.

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