Free haircut. by Domko

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Free haircut.
I was a teenager in the seventies. I had long hair and I used to go to a modern hairdresser to have it fixed 3-4 times a year. When I was 12 years old, I realized that seeing boys with short haircuts from old-fashioned barbershops turned me on. I used to watch these barbershops from afar. When the boys entered the barber shop, I waited until they came out to see what kind of short hair they had. I liked the haircuts, but I didn't have the courage to get a haircut in these barbershops.
I was already 13 years old when during the winter I didn't have the opportunity to see how the boys got their hair cut, because when they came out of the barber shop they had caps on their heads. So I plucked up the courage and entered the barbershop behind them. I watched the boys get their haircuts from the waiting chair. It was exciting to watch them. When the barber was finishing the boys' haircuts, I got up as if I had forgotten my money and left the barbershop.
I watched Clements barber shop one evening like this. I saw 3 boys opening the door to the barber shop. I also quickly entered. I sat down next to one of them on the waiting chair. All three boys had long, trendy hairstyles, just like me. There were 2 barbers working in Clements barber shop. One of them was about 60 years old and the other was a bit older. In about 15 minutes, one of the barbers called another and the oldest of the boys, about 15 years old, got up and sat in the free leather barber's chair. He handed a letter to the barber. The barber read the letter and then said aloud. These guys are always fighting and arguing. That's why their father wants them to get short military haircuts as punishment. I felt a lump in my crotch when I heard that.
The barber wrapped the boy, combed his hair. He tilted his head back and started cutting him. I saw about 8 inches of hair fall to the ground. Then the older barber called another boy and pointed at me. I was left in shock, I wanted to say something but my throat tightened and I didn't utter a word. I stood up and began to hesitate. But the barber shouted at me to sit down immediately, that there were still many customers in the barbershop.
I got scared and moved to the barber and sat in the chair. I was at a loss for words. I indicated to him to cut off just a piece of my hair, but the barber told me that he knows what to do.
He wrapped me in a sheet, combed my hair. I looked at the boy in the next chair. Almost all of his hair was on the ground or sheet. The barber already covered my head. I felt the cold metal teeth of the scissors on my forehead. The scissors turned on. And I could feel them tapping on the top of my head. When the barber tilted my head to the right side, he used it to cut the hair around my ear and on the left side. He did the same on the right side of the head. Finally, he bent my head forward and cut the hair on the back of my head. When I straightened up in the chair for a moment and looked in the mirror, I didn't recognize the person looking at me in the mirror. The barber unzipped the sheet, shook my hair from it to the ground, and refastened it around my neck. I looked at the barber's chair next door, where another boy had sat down. I wanted to look at the boy with a haircut, but the barber was already applying white cream to the back of my head and sides. He took a razor which he sharpened on a leather belt clipped to the side of the chair. He tilted my head and started shaving the side of my head with a razor. When he finished shaving, he wiped off the rest of the foam from his head, applied some disinfectant to the shaved area, and freed me from the sheet. I was looking in the mirror. I had hair about 1/8 inch long on the top of my head and the sides were shaved. I saw the oldest of the brothers. The back of his head was shaved, as were his sides.
I started pulling out money to pay for my military haircut. The barber looked at me and asked me if I belonged to those boys. Still at a loss for words, I just shook my head no. He apologized to me that he thought I belonged to them and because he made a mistake I have today's haircut for free.
When I got home, I changed into sweatpants and ran to the bathroom to check my hair. I saw that almost the entire head is shaved, only on the top of the head I have a long stubble of black hair. My father followed me into the bathroom and noticed how I was stroking the shaved back of my head and also noticed that my sweatpants were bulging in my crotch. My parents were surprised by my new hairstyle. I said that I wanted to try a new barber, but that there were 3 brothers whose father wanted them to get military haircuts. The barber made a mistake and thought that I belonged to them, so he gave me such a haircut.
My father told me to get dressed and we went to the barbershop together.
Upon arrival, the barber sat in his chair and read the newspaper. When he saw me with my father, he got up and started apologizing to my father for my hairstyle. But the father smiled and said that he and I like the new hairstyle, and he came for advice as he often does to adjust the hairstyle. The father and the barber lit up cigarettes. The barber complimented my head that it was suitable for such a hairstyle. Then he told my father that it is good for me to shave my sides and the back of my head 1-2 times a week. In a week, my hair will grow about as much as I have now on the top of my head, which can still be shaved. It is enough to cut the top of the head once every two or three weeks. After 3 weeks my hair should be about 1/2 inch long. So that shaving would not be expensive, he told my father that he could shave me himself. He picked out a new razor and presented it to his father. He should use the cream that he uses for his own shaving. Then he pointed to dad on my head with his finger about how high he should shave my head.
My father told me on the way home that he noticed my excitement and that's why he wants me to keep this hairstyle for the future. He wants me to go to Clements barber shop once every 3 weeks. I obeyed and every 3 Fridays or Saturdays I followed Clements barbershop and entered when a boy came in with his parents.
One evening, my father called me to the bathroom and ordered me to strip down to my underwear. When I saw a chair, cream and a razor in the middle of the bathroom, it was clear to me what would follow. When my father scraped off the white cream on my head with a razor, I was excited again. Finally, my father informed me that he would shave my head every Wednesday and Sunday.

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