It's all Calvin's fault. by Jajko

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My name is Adam, I was 13 years old in 1975. I had hair that covered my ears, my shirt collar, and my eyes. But it wasn't always like this. Until my 10th birthday, I went regularly every 3-4 weeks with my father to the old-fashioned Ortega barber shop, where I always left with very short hair. On my 10th birthday, my parents agreed that if I do well in school and have no behavioral problems, I will go to a modern salon with my mother. In 1975, younger brother Calvin, who was only 7 years old, went to the Ortega barbershop with his father.
Once Father Calvin told him to go get dressed, that they were going to the barber. But Calvin started shouting that he doesn't want to go to Ortega's barbershop, because the boys with long hair laugh at him and he also wants to have hair like Adam's. After about 15 minutes, my father told me to get dressed too. At the same time, he winked at me with one eye and I understood that he just wanted to trick Calvin into getting a haircut.
The three of us entered Ortega Barber Shop, there were several older guys waiting on chairs. Mr. Ortega was cutting an older guy's hair. We sat down on the waiting chairs. I looked around the barbershop, but nothing had changed in it, only the barber was a bit older, he was about 55 years old.
After almost an hour, Father Calvin told him to stand up, that in a moment he would go and sit on the high wooden chair that Mr. Ortega would prepare for him. But then Calvin started making another scene so that Adam would go first. I could see from the father that he was very angry and he promised Calvin that he would get a fight on his ass at home. I remained in shock and waited for my father to solve it. Finally he turned to me and told me to go sit in the old leather barber's chair. I did it reluctantly, I didn't want to anger my father even more and I hoped it would be just a small adjustment.
Mr. Ortega greeted me and said, Adam, you haven't been here for a long time. He wrapped me in a white sheet, which he tightened tightly around my neck. When he combed my hair, he asked my father: how are we going to cut it today. To this Dad replied, a classic children's haircut. I turned to my father with the words: Dad, no. I saw Calvin laughing in the mirror. But the barber was already pushing my head and his hair clipper started to cut the hair from the neck all the way to the back of the head. A lot of my about 5-6 inches long hair started growing in the lap on the sheet. He cut the hair on the sides of my head. Before Mr. Ortega started cutting the hair on the top of my head, he called my father and showed him my hair, which in his opinion was damaged. His father told him that he would talk to him later about how to fix it. The barber then cut the hair on the top of my head. He parted them and combed to the right side. He took a clipper on which he changed the clipper blades to very fine ones and I felt them on my left cheekbone, he bent my ear and made an arch with them around the ear, he repeated the same on the right side. Finally, he used them to cut the remaining short hair from my neck. I started to realize what kind of hairstyle I would go to school with tomorrow and the mocking reactions of my classmates. I started shaking all over. The barber already made a transition from the fine stubble to the top of my head where I was left with one and a half inch long hair. The barber freed me from the sheet, but I remembered that he used to do that and that it wasn't the end even though I would have liked to run away from the barbershop. When the barber dusted off the sheet, he wrapped me in it again and pulled it tight around my neck. He applied white foam to the stubble around the ears and the back of the head. He slowly scraped off the foam and I could already see the white smooth skin around my ears. When he applied the oily smelly liquid to the top of my head and combed my hair to the side again. Before he freed me from the sheet, he took a hand mirror and stood behind me to show me how short my haircut was. I had 3 inches of my head cleanly shaved from the collar, and then the stubble started, which gradually increased to the hair on the top of my head, which was about an inch and a half long. I had thumb-sized white, clean-shaven arches around my ears. After freeing myself from under the sheet, I went to sit next to my father on the free waiting chair.
The brother was already sitting on a high wooden chair for little boys. When the barber wrapped him in sheets, he asked his father if Calvin would get the same haircut as Adam. Father replied yes. While the barber was cutting my brother's hair, I was still looking for my hair, and I was sad about my new short haircut. My father noticed that I was sad, so he consoled me that my hair would grow back.
Dad was the last to get a haircut, he didn't have such a short haircut like me and Calvin. When the barber finished cutting my father's hair, I got up and went out with my brother to the barber shop, because I knew that my father would just pay and we would go home. I told my brother that I will not forget this day. Well, we waited for father for about 10 minutes. We were all quiet the whole way home.
At home, my mother was surprised that I, too, was with my father and brother at the Ortega barber shop. Her father told her about Calvin's behavior, then took his brother into the room to fulfill what he had promised him in the barber shop. In a moment, I could hear my father's belt hitting my ass and my brother's cries from the room.
I caught part of my father's conversation with my mother late at night when he was telling her about my damaged hair. I heard my mother say it was only for his own good.
The next day at school, it was unbearable as many boys and girls laughed at my new short haircut. It was even worse than when they make fun of boys who regularly go to the old-fashioned barber shop.
I checked daily how much my hair grew, but it took about 5-6 days for stubble to grow on the shaved part of my head.

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