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Growing Up - University by buzztob


Growing Up - University
by
buzztob



It was finally time for me to go off to University. I was really looking forward to the new experience, but it would also mean an end to another chapter in my life. The group had already been broken up with Pete away in the Army; he had successfully completed his training and was now a Physical Training Instructor stationed in Germany. Steve was in the final stage of completing his training at the Hairdressing School. He really enjoyed his work and it would appear that he was a natural and already had started to build up a regular clientele, so his income was steadily increasing. He still used dad’s garage, but was on the lookout for a suitable site to set up his future shop.

I was due to leave on Sunday afternoon. Dad was going to drive me there as I had so much kit to take and he wanted to have a good look around. Sunday morning arrived and I was up really early. I quietly headed to the kitchen as I thought that both my parents would still be in bed. Climbing down the stairs, I heard voices coming from the kitchen. Dad was already up. When I entered the kitchen, Steve was sitting there drinking a cup of coffee, chatting to dad. Steve looked at me and said ‘Morning sleepyhead, we have been here for ages’. Dad turned around with a smile on his face, he had already been on the receiving end of Steve’s talents and looked very sharp. I walked over to dad and ran my hand up his head playfully, commenting on it feeling like a baby’s bottom. Dad laughed and said that it was my turn, Steve’s farewell present to me. Steve got out of the chair, opened the back door and said to me ‘After you Sir’ I smiled and walked out. Dad didn’t follow as he said that he had some things to do.

Steve and I walked into the garage, recalling the first time that we had dared to venture into this place. I jumped into the chair and Steve wrapped that cape around me. ‘How would you like your haircut, sir?’ Over the past few years, we had experimented with all sorts of haircuts from total shaves to fairly long boxed flattops. I thought for a moment and then said ‘a really short high & tight horseshoe with shaved sides. Steve said, ‘One tight horseshoe coming up with the full works!’

As I relaxed in the chair Steve picked up the clippers, changed the blade and started to slowly run the clippers up the side of my head. I still got a buzz out of feeling the cold metal running up my head, the tingling sensation went from my toes to my head. He then moved to the back and peeled the hair off. The other side quickly followed. Brushing the loose hair away, he sprayed the top of my head then started to rub in the gel. Using the comb, he slowly combed through the top of my head to ensure that all the hair was coated and ready for the next stage. Steve picked up the clippers and started to reduce the length on the top of my head very slowly and methodically. He then changed the blade, positioned my head and ran the bare clippers over the centre of my head creating a very short landing strip. He then worked with a comb and clippers, reducing the length of the remaining hair. The horseshoe shape quickly appeared. Steve then widened the landing strip, leaving just enough hair around the edge of my head to show off his handy work. He then brushed off the loose hair and I


knew what was coming next. He placed a large amount of lather in his hand and started to work it around the back and sides of my head and carefully applied a covering to the landing strip. I really enjoyed this part of the haircut and knew that I was in safe hands. Steve picked up his full hollow ground straight edged razor, ran it over the strop a few times and proceeded to remove the lather. He paid particular attention to the strip to ensure that all of the stubble was removed. Steve wiped off the surplus lather then applied some baby oil to his hands and worked it into the shaved area. He picked up the razor again and worked against the hair growth in order to ensure a baby’s bottom smooth finish. He made a couple of slight adjustments to the top and then removed the cape. It was an amazing haircut, which I stood in front of the mirror admiring. Dad was at the door and complemented Steve on an excellent cut. I bid Steve farewell and said that I would be back for Christmas. I left Steve and dad in the garage, returned to my room to finish off the packing. I kept sneaking a look in the mirror and my hand would not stay away from my head!

I had been at University for 6 weeks and was really enjoying myself. It had been a busy time and I had to put a lot of things on the back burner until I had settled in. One of those jobs was not having time to get my hair cut. My hair was longer than I could ever remember and I hated it. It looked a mess and I felt really scruffy. One Saturday morning, I was talking to a couple of lads in the same corridor of the accommodation block and asked them if they knew of a local barber? They both looked at me and asked why I wanted to get my haircut? It was still a lot shorter than theirs. I told them that I liked short hair and wanted it cut. One said that he saw a hairdressing shop just at the start of the local town high street. I left the building and headed for the shop. When I arrived, it was a unisex place and when I looked in, it was all females, not a man in site. Not for me! I carried on walking around the town trying to find a suitable place but all the ones I saw were either unisex or the one barber shop I did see was again staffed by females. This was turning into a nightmare. I started to head back to the accommodation when I noticed on the other side of the street, up a side alley, a brightly lit spinning barbers pole. Worth a try! I crossed the road and headed up the alley. As I approached, I looked in through the big plate glass window. No one was in the shop and GREAT, a man was sitting in the barber’s chair reading a newspaper. I broke into a smile and thought that my luck had changed. I opened the door and walked in.

The barber looked up from his paper and I saw a cigarette hanging from his mouth. He asked if he could help me and I said that I wanted a haircut. He just raised his eyebrows, folded his paper and got out of the chair. ‘OK, hop in’ was all he said. He then picked up a cape and placed it around me. Part of the ash from his cigarette fell on the cape and he just brushed it off. I noticed that the cape was stained and smelled! It was nothing like the clean freshly laundered capes that Steve used. He picked up a comb, ran it through my hair and said that he expected that I just wanted a trim around the edges! No I wanted the hair cut short. He stared at me in the mirror and told me that it would be better if I just had a light trim. It would suite my face he insisted. He was a professional and he knew what suited his customers. He didn’t wait for a reply.

The barber picked up a pair of scissors and started to trim off the ends of my hair with the aid of a comb. I said to him that it was very quiet to which he replied that he had only been open for 6 months and had not had time to establish a regular trade. I thought no wonder if he didn’t cut hair as the customers wanted. Within seconds, he had finished with the scissors and picked up a pair of clippers, which had no attachment on them. Great I thought, he is going to start cutting it properly. I couldn’t believe that he only touched the sideburn, buzzed it lightly around the ear, did the other side and then I felt the clippers pressing straight across the back of my hair line at the back. I asked him what he was doing and he said ‘squaring the neck off’. I told him that I normally have it tapered very short. All he said was ‘No! Squared off was best for me. At that he brushed off the loose hair and removed the cape. I had been in the chair for less than 5 minutes. I went up to the large mirror to have a close look and thought that it was the worst haircut that I had ever had. No wonder he had an empty shop. I reluctantly paid him the money and when he said he looked forward to seeing me again, all I did was smile at him. I would never be seen dead in that place again. I would rather cut it myself than let him have another hack at it!

When I got back to the accommodation, I felt really sick. Over the past couple of years, I had really enjoyed the experience and sensation of having my hair cut. I felt really let down. I decided to phone home and speak to dad. I told him what had happened and he surprised me by saying that if I wanted to, he would come and collect me next weekend so that I could have a break at home. I thought it was a great idea and would just break up the term nicely before heading home for Christmas. We agreed a time that he could collect me on the Friday afternoon and just as I was about to put the phone down, I said to dad ‘can you book me an appointment with Steve?’ he just laughed and said ‘no problem, can’t have my son looking scruffy’ I really now had something to look forward to!




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