A free haircut by Storyteller

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By the time I was 10, in the 1970s, after much persuasion to convince my parents that long hair was the fashion for boys, I had managed to let my hair grow for two years with just a few trims every now and then.

My very straight brown hair was already shoulder length, it completely covered my huge floppy ears, and the bangs would have gone past my nose if I didn't put it all the way to the side. The condition for me to keep my hair that way was to go to the barbershop without them having to ask and keep my hair clean and combed, which I always took care to do.

Seeing that my hair had grown quite a bit, and in order not to get into trouble, on a Sunday with free time, I said to my father "I need money to go to the barbershop for a haircut, Sir". My father, smiling, said "Good boy", gave me the money, and added "you can keep the change". I said "Thanks, Dad" and happily left for the barbershop.

Arriving at the barbershop where I used to go and where the barber was already a friend of mine and only cut my hair a little each time, I saw a little sign saying 'closed'. I realized that I had never been there on a Sunday and concluded that it must be closed on Sundays.

Since I didn't want to get in trouble for coming back without getting the cut, and because that day my father decided to let me keep the change, I decided to look for another barbershop. It was hard to find one open. I noticed that it wasn't common for barbershops to stay open on Sundays, but I thought I'd seen one open before. I finally found a small, old-fashioned barbershop with an open sign. You could tell from the outside that it was very old and had only one barberchair.

Upon entering, I immediately saw the barber, who was an elderly gentleman, who, very friendly, smiled at me and said, "Good morning, kid, welcome to my barbershop". I was pleased with his hospitality and replied, smiling "Thank you Sir, it's a beautiful barbershop" looking at the antique furniture and equipment.

"Did you get the folder and come for the free cut?" he asked me smiling as he led me to the antique barberchair that was facing towards the door and with its back to the huge mirror. Surprised by his offer and immediately thinking about what my father had said about keeping the change, I immediately said "Yes, Sir".

I sat down in the chair and he soon put a blue fabric cape, closed it with a safety pin and a white neckstrip around my neck. He was careful not to get my hair caught inside the cape.
He soon held my head and with manual clippers placed under the bangs on my forehead he started to cut my hair and said "I decided to offer this possibility of free cut for those who only wanted a baldy cut, so I can use my old manual clippers and people get to know my barbershop". I was in a state of shock. He didn't even notice because he was concentrating on his work and went on to say "How cool that you, with this long hair, wanted to go bald". I looked at him and tried to smile as I felt the clippers clipping my hair away and saw huge strands of hair falling over the cape and onto the floor.

He was calmly passing his clippers, I could hear the sound of his hands handling the clippers and controlling my hair as it passed. Gradually I started to feel his hands touch my head at times and it was a very strange feeling, I had never felt my head like that, shaved. He carefully ran his clippers through each part of my hair. Around the ears he was careful and pulled the ear away. I could see that he noticed that my ear was too big, it seemed like it was a lot of work for him, but he didn't say anything.

I, little by little, became distracted by the sound of the barber's work and stopped worrying about the cut. Naturally, I started to smile. The barber looked at me and said, "You're quite happy with your cut, aren't you, kid?" And I said, "Yes, Sir". "You will look very handsome and elegant", he said. I smiled.

In the end he left his clipper and slowly ran his hands over my cropped head. Then he took a dusting brush and ran it all over my head. He powdered the ends and rubbed them around her ears and the back of her neck. Then he shook the cape took off the cloth and the cape and swiveled the chair around to face the mirror and said, "There boy, your free cut" He patted my head and smiling said "baldy". I saw myself completely different in the mirror, it was almost impossible to recognize myself.

Politely, I said, "Thank you very much, Sir" and smiled, even saying "Don't I really need to pay for your service?" and he said "Of course not, that was the offer, bald is free" and added "And if you want to keep it that way, you can come back every Sunday and it will always be free". I smiled, got down from the chair and said, "Oh yes, thank you sir" shaking his hand and saying "See you next time", thinking I would never go back there.

I returned home quite embarrassed, in some moments I even took my hand to my face as if I were going to remove the bangs from my eyes, forgetting that I was bald.
When I got home my father saw me and he was quite surprised "What happened?" I said the usual barbershop was closed and I found this one where the cut on Sunday is free if it’s a bald cut it and it said "Here's your money, Sir". My father smiled and said "No, I said you could keep the change, you can keep all the money." I smiled and said, "Thank you, Sir".

My father asked "But what about you, did you like it? Did you really want to go bald?" I was embarrassed, and I said "Yes, Sir". My father then came to hug me and said very happily "Good, son, I didn't like you at all with that long hair, you look very handsome, now" And I said "Thank you, Sir" And he said "Then I'll tell you one thing, now I want you to go to this barbershop every week and get this cut for free. It's an order". I gulped and obediently said, "Yes, Sir."

As the cut was on a Sunday, on Monday I arrived at school, and it was horrible. Everyone making fun of me, making fun of my bald head, my floppy ears, my white head, giving nicknames. It was like this for three days, then it got less and less.

When Sunday came, my dad said, "Time to go to the barbershop and shave your head, son" And I said "Yes, Sir". I was embarrassed to ask for money because I knew it was a free cut. I walked out towards the old barber's barbershop.

When I got there, the barber was alone, and he smiled when he saw me. "You're back, former hairy kid" and I said "Yes Sir, I'm here for the bald cut again". He straightened the chair for me, and I sat down, He put the cape on me and when I expected to see the clippers in his hands, he said "My old manual clippers broke down for good, now to do your bald cut I have to use this electric shaver" and started moving it over my head. He said "You'll like it, it'll be a more authentic baldy" as the shaver's little motor whirred and I felt the blades running across my head.

The work with the shaver went much faster and soon my head was completely bare, bald indeed. And he said "there, Baldy". Although, there wasn't much to clean, he did the same process with the duster brush and talcum powder. He rubbed my head and said "okay, kid, see you next Sunday". I smiled, shook his hand and said "Have a great week, Sir"

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