Twin Tops by Manny

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I was so impressed with young Travis. Obviously, the discount chain Tire Tread had a rigorous training program for its personnel. He was courteous, knowledgeable, efficient and so pleasant with his warm smile and cheerful attitude. And, he was quite handsome too, despite the ugly big chip on his front tooth that drew my attention away from large watery green eyes. But, his crowning glory was his hair. Thick, lustrous, honey-colored locks that fell in layers â€" an abundant shag that looked great on him. The shag was not the result of any careful style, merely the consequence of avoiding the barber shop for months and months.

As Travis was reviewing my tire order, another young fellow with "Ward" embroidered on the pocket of the shop’s blue jumpsuit ambled up. I did a double take because Ward looked remarkably like Travis. He had the same fair complexion, as well as the same gorgeous hair and beautifully straight (unchipped) teeth.

Being a dentist, I had a tendency to notice people’s teeth; and, being a wannabee barber, hair was another thing that never escaped my attention when it was luxurious and abundant on men.
"This is Ward, he’ll be assisting me to fulfill your order," Travis said, following the script Tire Tread required.

Ward smiled warmly and thanked me for choosing Tire Tread. So well trained, these fellows!

"Are you brothers?" I asked, unable to curb my curiosity.

Travis smiled broadly and chuckled gently. "Hardly! We do look alike, we’re told. But, Ward here was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Not me! I’m your basic, hard-working guy trying to save up enough dough to move out of the trailer park I grew up in."

Ward blushed, and I saw him move to conceal a gold Rolex watch beneath his standard blue jumpsuit. I also noticed that his hair, while I similar length to Travis’ man, was a pretty-boy salon precision cut, not an overgrown shaggy mane.

"Did your family fall on hard times, making you get a job?" I asked Ward as we walked to the garage area.

"No, but my father thought it would be good for my character to get some ‘real world’ experience. He had wanted me in the Army, but we settled on me doing a blue-collar, grind-type job for two years instead," Ward explained.

"What? You didn’t want your pretty-boy locks shaved off by a boot camp barber?" I laughed.

"I didn’t want to get killed in some training accident or on the battle field!" Ward replied in a jovial tone.

"Turns out, I made a good choice. I actually like this place. We’ve got a good team here. Travis and I are pals, even," he said, as Travis turned, grinning his approval.

We chatted a bit as the duo worked on my car. One of the lug nuts was swollen and Travis struggled to get it off. The veil of shimmering hair fell across his face as he put all his effort into the wrench. After a few unsuccessful attempts he called Ward over to help.

Pushing his hair from his eyes, he looked up to explain, "The lug nut is swollen, but nothing to worry about."

And with that explanation, he was back to his work and the hair was all over his face again, causing more than a tad of aggravation.

"Seems like you could use a trip to the barber shop, Travis," I remarked casually. "And to the dentist too. What happened to your tooth?"

"Ward is the cause of my scary look. He decided to engage in some roughhousing on our break about a month ago and the next thing I knew, a hunk of my tooth was on the floor," Travis explained. "And, since I don’t have dental insurance…."

"I could fix that easily," I said. "I’m a dentist. A quick epoxy cap and you’ll be like new. And it wouldn’t cost Ward’s Rolex, either!"

Travis seemed interested. "What would it cost?"

"I’ll make a deal with you. Ward springs for two haircuts at the barber shop â€" that’ll be all of $30 at the shop located in the plaza with my dental practice â€" and I will cap your tooth for free. I’ve been so impressed with the service you two have provided." It was a great offer.

"I’m game," said Ward quickly.

"Me too!" said Travis.

"Oh, just one catch. I choose the haircut," I said with a twinkle in my eye. "And, it’s not going to be ‘just a trim’ either. You need that mange cropped short, Travis."

Then, I added, "And, Ward, if you’re going to have a true blue collar experience, you need to shed that prissy salon look!"

The lads stared at each other momentarily and smile. "Deal!" the said in unison.

As I left Tire Tread I gave them my business card and we agreed to meet Saturday morning to get Travis’ tooth capped before heading to the barber shop.


As I was reclining the dental chair, Travis flashed me a toothy gin. The awful missing chunk glared out of his mouth.

"In a few minutes," that smile will be transformed," I commented. "Restored to the original look. You have wonderfully straight teeth. Braces?" I asked.

"Are you kidding? My parents struggled to put food on the table!" Travis replied.

"And your straight teeth, Ward?" I asked.

"Four painful years of orthodontics," he muttered.

"It’s awful nice of you to fix my tooth for free," Travis said before I started working on the cap.

"You repair tires, and I repair teeth," I laughed. "I enjoy seeing things set to right."

Travis’ forelock fell into his face.

"We need to keep this out of the way," I said, as I gently pushed it away from his eyes and tucked it behind his ear. The soft hair felt wonderful in my fingers. Travis did not seem to mind the intimacyone bit. "You boys will look better with proper haircuts."

From the sideline, Ward commented in a nervous tone, "I’ve never been to a traditional barber shop before."

"Then you’re in for a real treat. It’s a man’s world, the shop in the plaza. No floozies prancing about or irritating smells of perm solution." I noted.

Ward ran his fingers through his hair nervously. "Do they take credit cards?" he asked.

"Nope, just cash. And you should add on a two dollar tip per haircut. Can you afford it?"

"I hope you’re not considering anything radically short for me," Ward said nervously.

"Keep hoping," I remarked cryptically.

"What about you?’ Travis, I asked, pausing my work on his mouth.

"Shoot, the shorter the better. I won’t have to pay for another haircut for over a year if I get scalped," he noted.

"Do you want matching flattops, to look like twins?" I asked.

"Absolutely not!" Ward stated.

"I’ve always been curious about flattops," Travis said. "I’m game!"

"Then, flattops for both of you!" I said with an air of finality.

I turned to Ward and said, "And you, sir, are getting off lightly. You should have paid for this tooth repair as soon as it happened since you caused the damage."

Ward knew I was right, averting his gaze, feeling a bit ashamed. Yes, he would pay a penance….his coif falling to the barber clippers.

When Travis finally got out of the chair, he was all smiles about his restored front tooth. "Thank you so much, sir. I’m so happy the tooth got fixed!" he stammered gratefully as he stared at the nice teeth in the mirror.

His long, lush hair completely covered his collar in back. He would look quite different with a flattop.

"And, now, on to phase two. The big chop," I said, stimulating a set of scissors with my fingers.

"I can’t believe you opened up the dental practice on Saturday just for me," Travis said, emphasizing his gratitude.

We proceeded to the barber shop briskly -- Travis and me leading the way with Ward lagging behind.

"Come on, pretty boy!" I snapped.

I sensed the heightened level of anxiety as we entered the barber shop. "Nothing to worry about, Ward. I’ll do the talking. You just sit quietly in the chair and don’t be a crybaby."

The Plaza Barber Shop was frozen in time and exuded a 1950s feel. Red and white checked linoleum floors still sparkled with three matching Koken barber chairs perched on massive enamel bases. A red formica counter was lined with matching jars containing the iconic blue barbicide liquid used to sterilize scissors and combs. The three barbers were at work, all wielding clippers and giving three middle-aged men who were swathed in white cotton very short tapers.

"Hey," they greeted us as we walked in.

"These your sons, Bill?" one of the barbers asked me.

"Hell, no. I wouldn’t let any sons of mine get so shaggy. But these lads are itching for crisp flattops and I told them I knew just the place," I explained.

Ward gave me a quizzical look.

The barber nearest the window was finishing up. "Which one is going first?" he asked.

"Travis here," I replied.

Travis moved toward the barber chair, still eyeing his fixed tooth as he walked over. He plunked into the chair with a sense of relief.

The barber took a comb to his thick mane. "Quite a head of hair you have here," he noted as he struggled to yank it through the shag.

In moments, the white cotton cape was being secured in place and the lovely honey-colored locks were dangling near the lad’s shoulders for their last moments. Soon, they would be cascading to the floor in sheaves….and then being swept up and discarded.

"Any special instructions?" the barber asked Travis.

"Mr. Bill there can explain," the lad replied.

"Zero on the sides and a bit of a plush pile on top," I instructed.

"That’s coming to be a rather drastic change from this long shag," the barber remarked.

Just then, another barber chair opened up.

"Next!" the barber called out, pointing at Ward.

The prissy lad hesitated, shuffling slowly. He gave me a pleading look, but knew better than to ask being let off easily. Ward looked at the mirror and ran his fingers through his shiny hair one last time and then eased into the chair.

"A flattop!" the barber smirked, sensing the lad’s unease. "See that big machine hanging from the counter? It’s going to make mighty short work of your girly hair!"

"Zero on the sides, and a landing strip for him," I instructed.

The barber smiled broadly and flashed me a thumbs up.

"That is going to be mighty short," the barber gleefully explained to Ward.

I swiveled my head back just in time to see the first swipe of the clippers plow right up the back of Travis’ head. A massive shank of shimmering honey fell dramatically to the barber’s feet. The clipped swath was tight to the scalp. Travis seemed amused by start of his haircut and grinned broadly.

"Feeling lightheaded yet, Travis?" I asked.

"Yep, like I’ve been relieved of an unwanted load," he quipped as the clippers moved up the back of his head again.

"No more hair in your face when you’re trying to wrench off those swollen lug nuts," I noted.

"Let’s get this hair out of his eyes," the barber said, picking up on our conversation.

He combed the mass of hair straight down over Travis’ face.

Then….quickly….SNIP, SNIP, SNIP!

Right at the top of his forehead! The veil of hair fell onto the cape.

Travis’ grin continued, but his look seemed a bit more nuanced, with some worry.

"You are going to look just fine," I assured him.

"I trust you, sir," the lad replied, swallowing a bit.

"But does your friend?" I asked, returning my attention to Ward.

I got up from the chair in the waiting area and walked over to where Ward was sitting, nervously waiting for his shearing to begin.

"Your father will be surprised when you come home with a flattop," I joked.

"He sure will be," Ward gulped nervously. "About the landing strip….."

"Yep, you’re getting one! Wide enough for a Jumbo 747 to land on!" I exclaimed.

With that, the barber snagged Ward’s forelock with a comb and quickly ran the clippers over the plastic teeth, close to the hairline. The forelock was history! Right down to the lap it fell!!

Ward’s face blanched and then went a sort of yellow color.

"Zero on the sides and back?" the barber asked, confirming my earlier instruction.

"Yep, down to stubble," I replied.

With a tight grip, he forced the lad’s head into a low bow.

The clippers began stripping the back of hair. Mounds fell quickly to the barber’s feet.

I felt sorry for Ward, who by then was hyperventilating a bit.

"Maybe we’ll leave the landing strip for the next time," I said, in a conciliatory manner.

"Thank you, sir," Ward murmured.

"Awww, girly boy gets a reprieve," the barber mocked.

Ward’s soft hair was raining down in torrents. The cape gradually turned from white to honey-colored. The barber was firm with the clippers and took the top down as short as possible without carving a landing strip. Throughout the whole haircut, Ward seemed to be on the verge of tears.

"Should I lather shave the sides and back for a proper military look?" the barber asked.

I ran my fingers up the stubbly back. "No, I believe this is fine."

Ward’s barber was such a demon with the clippers, his haircut ended before Travis’ even though it had begun after it.

Finally, both boys were uncape and sheepishly looking at their new haircuts in the barber mirror.

"I like it!" exclaimed Travis.

"It’s not as bad as I imagined," Ward said sheepishly. "Now we look like twins, instead of brother!"

I ended up paying for both haircuts as Ward only had a credit card.

"That means you will pay for the trims two weeks from now, Ward. And remember to bring cash!" I admonished.
As we walked back toward the dental office, where our cars were parked, I got an idea.

"Say, Travis, my longtime office manager is going to be retiring at the end of the month. Would you be interested in his position? It’s salaried and with nice benefits â€" retirement, health and, of course, dental."

"Interested?!" Travis stammered. "I would absolutely love that! Move out of the blue collar garage work into something better."

"And you could take night classes on accounting and administration," I added.

Travis couldn’t resist. He gave me a hug, right there on the sidewalk. "You’re the best, Mr. Bill!"

I fondled the erect strands of his flattop briefly. "And, you don’t have to keep the flattop," I added.

"Are you kidding? It’s my new look! The flattop is a keeper," Travis beamed.

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