Unfamiliar Territory: First Day by barbershort

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Unfamiliar Territory: First Day on the Job

That First Saturday, I promptly arrived at 7 AM, as Mr. Wilson instructed. I opened the shop doors and was immediately greeted by Mr. Wilson, who was seated behind the front desk.

"Good Morning kid, I appreciate you getting here on time."

The barber spent a few seconds ruffling around under his desk and selected a neatly folded red nylon barber smock.

"Come back here kiddo, let me make sure this will fit you."

I met Mr. Wilson behind the desk, and he held the smock up against my shoulders.

"Arms up!"

"Yes Sir"

I held my arms out to the side, and he lined up the short sleeves of the smock.

"Yep, this’ll fit."

Promptly afterward, the barber opened up the pearl buttons of the smock and fastened it up at my neck. Then the zipper at the side was zipped up all the way. It was a tight fit, to say the least.

"Looking sharp boy, go check yourself out in the mirror!"

I went over to the station mirror and saw my reflection. As an insecure 11-year-old, I was displeased with the formed fit of the old-fashioned, compulsory uniform. As you might expect, the red nylon accentuated my soft, round potbelly. Although it was small, my newly extended waistline strained the front of the smock, making my navel visible. Out of embarrassment, I tried to pull down the smock and suck in, to no avail. Mr. Wilson noticed me examine this new look in great detail.

"Did that potbelly fill out over the summer kiddo?"

I blushed.

"Y-y-yes sir... I-I got a little carried away with snacking over the summer."

"Don’t worry about it buddy, I’ll keep you moving around here, we’ll slim that tummy down in no time, and it won’t poke out in the shop uniform anymore."

This reassured me and helped me warm up to the idea of sticking around Mr. Wilson’s shop on Saturdays. Not only would dad be impressed with my work ethic, but he’d also see me get back in shape just as he intended.

"Right then, first order of business is to get you styled up and looking like a little barber’s apprentice. Grab a booster from the shelf and pick out a styling cape."

I proceeded to place the booster on the chair and select a black and white striped barber cape from the hook.

"No sir! Does that look like it will fit you? Go back and get a kiddie cape that I can button up on you properly."

Flustered, I replaced the adult-sized cape with the ever so childish kids’ alien cape that I wore during my previous appointment.

"Very well, now rest your bum up on the booster."

At his request, I climbed on the chair and assumed correct posture. Before I could even speak, the neck strip and cape were buttoned up in the tightest possible position, and my hair was combed and slicked back with shiny hair gel.

"Much better" Mr. Wilson said as he unbuttoned the cape and directed me back to the front desk. "My first client is booked for 7:45. Any second now he’ll come in. I’ll be back at the station so our better introduce yourself and put on a big, cute smile for the nice man who opens that door. Sound good?"

"Yes sir."

Just as this conversation ended, an elderly gentleman entered the shop, I greeted him with a witty little smile, and after about 20 minutes Mr. Wilson finished off his haircut and sent him on his way.

"Alright boy, time to clean up all this hair!"

From the hook, the barber picked up a small, white PVC bib apron and tied it at my back.

"You gotta wear this to keep your uniform clean."

I nodded, then proceeded to grab a broom and wipe away all excess hair from the station.

As the day continued on, a steady stream of clients came and went, each time they departed the barber donned the little apron on me and I swept continuously.

By the end of my first shift at the local barbershop, I was burnt out and ready to be home, but I knew there was one more agenda Item Mr. Wilson wanted to complete.

Of course, my hairstyle needed a touch-up.

"Back on the booster seat kid."

I sat back up in the booster seat, assumed proper posture, and Mr. Wilson fastened up the kids’ alien cape over my red smock.

Before I knew it, the chair had been elevated to its highest position, and my chin was shoved into my chest.

What followed was the whirring of the clipper at my nape and sides and then, after a series of forced head movements, the shaving cream and straightedge razor process was commenced.

Even though I was only eleven years old, it was this second somewhat forced haircut that made me feel funny inside… in a good way.

Just as I had begun fantasizing, I felt the chair lower gently and the cape removed. In the mirror, I noticed that the resulting shape-up left me with a slightly shorter, tighter look, albeit still preppy and blonde as ever.

"Nice to have you looking sharp again buddy." The barber said.

"Now meet me back at the desk and I’ll get you paid and send you home."

I followed Mr. Wilson to the front, and he undid the buttons of the nylon smock at the neck and unzipped the zipper conforming my protruding puppy fat.

The barber patted me on the shoulder "Good job today kiddo, I’m very impressed by your desire to stay on your feet and get to work. Here’s $100 for a job well done."

The cash in my hand made my eyes light up, and eager to return to work.

"Same time next Saturday sir."

"You know it, kid. Now head on home and I’ll see you next week."

STAY TUNED FOR PART 3: THE PUNISHMENT

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