Singapore by Franko

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Singapore
When Henry left home, he had completed his military service and a place at university in his pocket. Back in the late seventies, long hair was common among men and he had had to fight for every inch with his parents. He had wavy, thick blonde hair and had discovered his interest in longer hair at the age of 12. It wasn't just fashion and rebellion, longer hair was a fetish for him and it made him when he thought about going to the hairdresser. The longer, the better, even if he found them impractical and actually looked better with short hair. The first thing he did was grow a great and his hair covered his ears before his father took him to cut his hair and he got a facon cut in tears. He tried with all tricks to avoid the hairdresser's appointments and so he managed to grow his hair almost to his shoulders and his bangs hung in several waves up to his chin and constantly blocked his vision. Then his father tricked him and he was shorn at the village hairdresser. By the time he graduated from high school, he had finally managed to reach shoulder length. But then he was drafted and drafted into the army for 18 months. Long hair was not tolerated there and he voluntarily went to the hairdresser before enlisting so as not to be humiliated by the sergeants. It was an exciting feeling to imagine having your long hair trimmed to match length before the haircut - the whole lap full of strands and then the hair massacre around the hairdressing chair. So it happened, he was shorn by his village hairdresser with joy and malice and went to him regularly during the service, willy-nilly.
That was behind him now, because he was of legal age and free to do what he wanted. He met his girlfriend Ellen, who was crazy about long hair in boys and had only thin hair herself, which she made grow as long as possible. When her hair reached the shoulders, it broke off or stopped growing. Henry's hair, on the other hand, grew magnificently and rapidly and Ellen lovingly helped him with the care. In her opinion, he should never have his hair trimmed again. He allowed it and after five years he had grown a huge mat with a side parting, which reached over his buttocks at the back. His uncut wavy bangs now reached up to his belt and constantly took away his vision, so he had to tuck it behind his ears when he wore his mane open. His parents were horrified and tried to persuade him to cut his hair with money, but he didn't want to and Ellen watched over every inch.
When he broke up with Ellen, he discovered traveling to distant lands. He visited Central America, North Africa and Southern Europe with his friend Jonas and planned a backpacking trip to Southeast Asia for three months. On the agenda were Thailand, Myanmar, Malaysia, Indonesia and Singapore. His old friend Jonas, who was very well-read and devoured travel guides, did most of the planning. The trip was supposed to start in 4 weeks and the flights were booked when Jonas showed up with a worried face. "Henry, we have a problem. Singapore denies entry to long-haired men!" Henry tucked his side parting behind his ear and couldn't believe it. The latest travel guide states that Singapore does not allow anyone with hair longer than their ears and collar to enter the country. You don't want to see long-haired people in the city. With your buttock long hair you will either be rejected or you have to have your hair cut first," said Jonas. "I just don't believe that! We can't avoid our flights because of Singapore. I'll call the embassy and inquire." replied Henry.Er was shocked that he should sacrifice his hair just to spend a few days in Singapore. The guidebook featured a poster showing a young man with black hair over his ears and collar, explaining what Singapore meant by long hair. Underneath it was written: "Long-haired people will be the last to be served!" These posters hung in every corner in Singapore to educate the locals. He called the embassy and an employee made it clear to him that they would absolutely not accept long-haired people in Singapore. However, the state is generous with tourists and you could get your hair cut for free at the border. That was bad news for his hair.The thought of a grinning Chinese hairdresser before the border or at the airport being sheared with rusty scissors and rattling, poorly oiled clippers made him shudder. He was desperate and didn't know what to do. He met with Henry, hoping to find a solution. But Henry couldn't give him any hope either: "You can of course cancel the trip to save your hair, but all flights are paid for and we would lose our money completely. You can also make a braid and hide it as a bun under a cap, but I can't imagine the customs officers falling for it. We can't pass by on this trip around Singapore, you know that. When I look at you like that, you could use a haircut. You can already sit on your hair and without a ponytail you won't be able to see out of your eyes! Think about it, there are still 4 weeks until the trip." Henry looked at Jonas angrily and thought of the past trips. He had been noticed everywhere with his super long blond hair and blue eyes and many local tourists wanted to have a photo with him. For these people, he was an exotic! It would be a shame if he were just one of many. The thought of having to go to the hairdresser aroused him and did not let go of him even in his dreams. His hair was his trademark and he had no intention of parting with it. He stroked his mat, which reached over his elbows. Actually, they did a lot of work and had to be brushed constantly so as not to tie knots and he obviously didn't look attractive with it either, because finding a successor for Ellen was not successful. Most women thought he was a woman at first and then turned away from him in shock. When traveling in hot countries, loose hair became a torture and he only endured the heat when he wore a braid, ponytail or bun. Everywhere in his homeland, people stared at him and made stupid remarks. It wasn't easy with hair like that. He simply couldn't bring himself to make a decision and put the decision on the back burner. So time passed and he met Jonas 2 days before leaving for Singapore. Jonas discussed with him when and where they would meet at the airport and didn't say a word about his hair. Finally, they took some before pictures of themselves, as they traditionally did before each trip. Jonas also took a few photos of Henry with his hair down and said goodbye. Now Henry had to come to a decision. It was like before enlisting in the army and he looked at himself extensively in front of the mirror before going to bed. The next morning he took a shower and blow-dried his infinitely long curls. His whole back was just a whole mass of hair and when he tied his shoes, long strands slipped over his elbow to his shoes and completely blocked his vision. What a bummer! He had come to a decision: he really wanted to make the trip and would cut his hair beforehand and not only in Singapore. He first toyed with the idea of doing it himself, but rejected the idea. He pulled his coat over his mane and drove into town. It was Saturday and the barbershops were full and he was turned away several times because he didn't have an appointment. He was frustrated and looked for a less-visited salon in the side streets where he didn't need an appointment. Finally he found a shop where there were only two customers. The sign on the outside said "hair clipper"! He had a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he had no choice and entered. A bell rang, he heard brass band music and looked around. There was only one barber's chair, which was occupied by an elderly customer with thinning hair, and behind it on the wall were five wooden chairs, where a boy with shoulder-length, straight hair was still waiting. Cuckoo clocks, chamois beards and Tyrolean hats hung around everywhere, giving the shop a Bavarian flair. There was no sign of the hairdresser and Henry sat down next to the boys. Suddenly, a curtain moved and the hairdresser in a blue, shabby coat appeared. Henry had to swallow, because it was a Chinese hairdresser with hedgehog-like black hair. "Good morning, I'm Chen Li, what can I do for you?" he asked kindly, grinning at him with yellowish teeth. "I want a short haircut!" said Henry with a lump in his throat. Well, you're lucky because a customer canceled. You'll have to wait a while, though. Take a seat! "Henry took off his coat, hung it up on the coat rack, and shook his loose, freshly washed mane. The hairdresser looked at his hair and said jokingly: "Oh my goodness, you have hair like a woman! Actually, I was supposed to send you to a women's hairdresser. "turned on an ancient, creaking clipper and shaved off his client's neck. Henry threw his hair over the backrest, sat down and sighed. The boy looked at him wide-eyed and said to him: "Wow, what a mane! That's how long I wanted to have hair, but my parents sent me to the hairdresser because it was way too long now." The hairdresser took off his client's cape and paper cuff, brushed him, cashed in, put a pillow in the barber's chair and said, "Next!" The boy sighed and took a seat. Chen Li put a paper cuff and cape on him and looked at him, shaking his head. "Finally, your parents sent you to cut your hair again. You haven't been with me for a long time!" He roughly combed out the hair on all sides so that it completely covered the boy's face, sprayed it with water, took a large pair of scissors and began to saber off the hair to 3 cm, turned on his machine and shaved out the neck and sides. Finally, he cut the forehead hair with scissors 2 cm above the eyes. There were heaps of hair around the hairdresser's chair. Henry had to swallow and thought that it would be no different in Singapore. He leaned over and reached for a magazine and saw his hair slipping over his shoulder and elbow in the mirror. It was a nightmare for him what he saw, but there was no alternative. The bell rang and an elderly customer entered and sat down next to Henry. The hairdresser was done with the boy and freed him from the cape, where large tufts of hair slid to the floor. With wet eyes, the shaved boy paid and Henry thought it was his turn, but the hairdresser first took the new customer without sweeping away his hair first. "My client has an appointment, patience, you'll get your turn!" he said. The waiting and the brass band music were slowly wearing him down, but he had to go through it. In between on the hour, several cuckoos came out of the clocks, babbled "cuckoo, cuckoo" three times, and disappeared again. After more than an hour and two other customers with thin hair, it was his turn. Chen Li looked at him with a smile: "Now it's your turn!" Henry stood up and looked at his hair in the mirrors for the last time. At the front they hung up to his belt and at the back they covered almost his entire buttocks. Since he was clean-shaven, you could actually mistake him for a woman with super long hair at first glance. He was highly aroused. He took a seat, and Chen disappeared to smoke a cigarette. "So, lady, now we're going to make a man out of you," he joked when he returned. He grabbed his fluffy mane at the back with his greasy fingers, put a paper cuff and a cape around him, let his hair fall over the backrest and combed it back with relish. The backrest had completely disappeared under the mass of hair." Oh, you washed them fresh. This is good. Then we can get started right away. How long haven't you been cutting your hair?" - "I've been growing them for more than 6 years and I wouldn't have them cut if I didn't travel to Singapore." - "To Singapore? Oh, yes, they're very strict when it comes to long hair! I wish they would introduce this in my native Hong Kong. The long-haired guys mostly deal in drugs." He was looking for his scissors when his phone rang and disappeared to answer the call. Henry turned his head to look after him, his waist-length locks sliding over his shoulder. Then the cuckoos appeared, babbling again. When he saw himself in the mirror, the tension was too great and his cock exploded. He was embarrassed, but he couldn't stand these delays anymore. Hopefully, Chen would finally start so he could get it over with. Chen spoke on the phone for an agonizing 20 minutes and he didn't notice anything because he spoke Chinese." Sorry, but my kids are stressing all the time. They mess up my whole schedule. After you, five more customers come before closing time. So, where did we stop? "He looked at Henry's mane and took a rough comb, combed his side parting over his face so that it disappeared underneath and he couldn't see anything. Then Chen began to comb out the remaining hair on all sides, thought and reached for his large scissors, which had taken on patina but worked well despite all this. Again, the phone rang, and Chen cursed and put the scissors aside to answer the call. Henry's tail burst again! That was just too much. Chen spoke german this time and was obviously talking to a customer. "Yes, they still want to come? But they have to come later, because I have given their appointment. You won't believe me, but in my chair sits a young man with hair up to his ass. It takes a lot of time to shear it. Today is a crazy day, first the neighbor boy with shoulder-length hair and now this hippy. Many women dream of such super-long wavy, blonde hair as Sissy, but with a boy it's just crazy. I've never had anything like this here. Ok, see you later." He hung up, came back and said to Henry, "Here we go. Say goodbye to your mane!" grabbed the scissors and sawed off the first strand at the back of the head to three cm, which gently slid to the ground. Now he cut snip, snapped one by one to the left and wanted to continue on the right side when the bell rang and he was disturbed again. A customer came in and wanted to make an appointment. Henry pushed aside his curtain and looked at himself in the mirror. The left half was already short and the ears were already recognizable and on the right still meter-long curls. What a sight! Chen was back and cut off the right side without shortening the hair on his forehead. Then, using a comb and scissors, he shortened the hair on the top of his head to 3 cm and turned on his rattling clippers to shave the sides and the back of his head. Henry felt his hair raining down and his lap filling. 6 years of breeding and care gone forever. Chen turned off the machine, combed out his beloved forehead hair, and cut it straight 2 cm above eyebrows. Then he put his hair on and Henry saw another person in the mirror. His hair on the top of his head was super short and looked like a blonde cap next to the bald sides. He was horrified, but now there should be no problem with Singapore. Chang took off the cape, and curls upon curls slid to the ground. After removing the paper cuff, Chen brushed it off and looked satisfied: "I think you won't have any more problems in Singapore! Have a nice trip!" Henry stood up and saw that the hairdresser was standing ankle-deep in his blond hair, which was scattered in heaps around the barber's chair. He watched the massacre and felt the back of his bald head. Chen cashed in and took care of the next customer. The brass band music was still pounding in his head all day. The next day, Henry met his friend Jonas at the airport. At first he recognized him only by his coat and held his hand in front of his mouth in astonishment. "That's what I call a haircut!" he joked, and they happily flew to Singapore. Henry noticed a young man on the plane whose brown hair reached half his back. Well, he'll probably get into trouble, he thought, and was happy about the theater with the customs officers. In Singapore, they went to passport control and the long-haired guy was right in front of you. The clever guy had made a braid and tucked it into his shirt. If that goes well! The officers checked his passport, looked at him angrily, and laughingly pulled out his braid. They said to him very sternly, "You know that we don't like long hair here in Singapore. We want you to leave the country or cut your hair as soon as possible. We'll give you a visa for a week." â€" "Yes, that's ok. for me. I only want to stay three days before I leave anyway!" he replied relieved, thanked him and went to the baggage claim. Henry was dumbfounded. You, too, only got a week. Henry asked the customs officer why he had allowed the long-haired man to enter the country like that. "We have relaxed the regulations because pop stars and top managers wear long hair for fashion reasons and refuse to cut their hair for a few days in Singapore and therefore don't want to come anymore!" Henry scratched the back of his shaved head and tears welled up in his eyes. What a bummer, it was all in vain and in his head the brass band music was pounding again!

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