Not just a trim today. by noguard

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“Today was certainly the day," I declared in my head as I groggily got into the shower on a Friday afternoon. I had became bored with my physical appearance and I was going to my barber; and not just for a trim.

As I rinsed my hands through my hair, I was certain of acting upon my desire. While soft and well maintained, my straight dark brown hair was thick and often irritating to me suddenly. I’d always been ok with how I had my hair but it all changed when I turned 14 just a few months ago.

Now it was like a chore to keep up with it; always pushing it out of my eyes, taking extra time to dry, sometimes not going the way I wanted it to; it was tiring.

6:30; I repeated that time in my head. The actual appointment was at 6:40 but it took about 9 minutes to walk there. When I got out of the shower, it was 6:20; about time for me to go. I put a sweatshirt on to combat the early fall breeze, along with a pair of jeans. The sun was barely setting but I figured I could get there before dark.

I put my headphones on which sat on my plush hair. Sometimes the headphones would yank onto hairs and I had to pull them off along with it to solve that. I turned my music on and started my walk. The breeze was no match against my thick hair.

I had always had a particular style I stuck to. My hair was pretty average for a boy my age. The top along with the bangs reached slightly through my eyebrows, and the sides and back were about 2-3 inches long, with tufts usually poking out here and there. This along with how thick my hair was created quite the problem in the summer, which I was originally planning on doing this.

Why didn’t I do it then? At my age, we’re usually self conscious. I was self conscious in the way where I wasn’t concerned how I felt, but how others felt. It was usually just a short period of time with reactions but it felt like hours. But now, I already had an appointment so I couldn’t back out.

I knew I was close due to familiar objects like a graffiti’d sign and a flattened soda can that had been stepped on so many times it had practically “fused" to the ground. I turned around and I was officially there; “Emmet Street Barbershop".

I turned my music off and approached the building, the lights reflecting on me. I opened the door where Evan, my barber, was. Evan was a man reaching his 40s. I knew Evan quite well. I had gone there almost my whole life, cutting my hair the same time. He knew me well, too. We had long conversations when I was getting my small trims.

“I’ll be with you in a second," Evan exclaimed as I sat down. I gave him a nod.

The shop felt.. different, almost. Like it knew what change was to come for me. If I’m honest, I was just a bit nervous; what if I hate it? What if somebody else hates it? I took a deep breath, no worrying now.

“You’re here later than usual," Evan joked.

“Just a trim?" Evan questioned as I took my hoodie off and handed it to him. It took me just a few seconds to say what I have to say.

“Well.. actually, no. I’ve been thinking of changing it up." Evan smiled a bit.

“Really? What’s causing this?"

“I don’t know, just kinda tired of having such long hair, y’know? It gets boring," I replied.

“I get that. I usually don’t like my hair long," Evan put a cape around me and tied a napkin around my neck.

“So, what are we thinking?" Evan looked at me through the mirror.

I looked at myself as well. “I just want it a lot shorter and out of my face, really. I’m sure you could think something up. Pretty closely cropped but not too mature looking."

“I just thought of something; I think you’ll like it." After clipping the top of my hair up, he went over to retrieve his clippers and put on a #4 guard. He switched it on and went over the sides and back. It wasn’t much of a difference, really; just a little shorter. He switched to a #3. He went a bit shorter with a separate portion on the sides & back, a little lower. He did the same thing with a #2 and a #1; just going lower and lower as we went down the back & sides. As we went closer to the skin, it was an unusual feeling; I never got it clipper cut. He refined his work and put the clippers down.

He unclipped the hair on top and combed it back down. As I looked in the mirror, I looked different; you could see a bit of my scalp on the sides which, while new, I didn’t mind. Better than having to tuck my hair behind my ears.

He took some scissors. “Alright, this is where the real difference will happen. You sure you wanna go through?"

“I don’t mind" I replied in a positive snarky tone.

He wet my hair and combed it back completely. As I looked in the mirror, my forehead was now exposed. Layer by layer, he snipped it all until it was just 2 1/2 inches in the front, and almost 2 inches in the back. To finish the look, he combed it back and used a bit of gel to stick it up. He then blow dried it while combing it.

“Alright, what do you think?" Evan said, excitedly as he took off my cape. I looked down; there was plenty of hair on the floor, more than I’d ever seen under this chair.

I looked in the mirror. It was different.. and I loved it! I inspected it, the front stuck up but in a more casual way. There was no longer going to be any hair in my face. I ran my hands above my head and the hair folded slightly and sprung back up. He definitely took the request for it to be short to heart!

“I.. honestly really like it. This is probably even more than I wished for. Thanks! I’ll probably be back for the same thing soon." I slightly smiled at him.

“Well, I’m glad you like it, bud." He handed me a container of gel and I paid him for the cut and left.

I decided not to put my sweatshirt back on, tying it around my waist. I put my headphones & music back on as I walked home.

The night wind breezed through my scalp which certainly felt good. Why had I not done this before, I thought.

My parents should be home by now, probably watching documentaries on the living room couch. I guessed right.

As I walked in, my parents looked at me.

My mother started, “What got into you?" She joked.

My father continued, “What did you do to our son?" He joked back.

I laughed a bit. “I don’t know; I just wanted to do something different."

“It looks good, Colton." My mother nodded and smiled to my dads comment.

“Thanks," I said as I walked to my room. I plopped my self onto the bed of my heavily decorated room and turned my tv on as I told my friends what I did. We planned something for Saturday so they could all see. My short haired black cat cuddled against me as I went to sleep, earlier than usual. The pillow felt softer than usually, plushing against my scalp. Tomorrows going to be fun, certainly.

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