Moving Home - Part 2 by buzztob

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Moving Home â€" Part 2
by
buzztob

Hanging out with John for the rest of the day whilst my parents sorted out our new house was enjoyable, but we couldn’t stop running our hands over our heads. We ended up in the local park. It was there a group of other kids arrived and started making fun of us. They were screaming that we must have head lice for our parents to make us cut our hair off. John recognized a few of the group and told them to leave us alone, we didn’t have head lice and wanted to get this cut for the summer holidays. They just kept screaming and shouting at us so we left.

Walking down into town, we decided to call into a café and get a drink. We both still had money in our pocket left over from the haircut. On entering the café, we took a seat and ordered two soft drinks. It was not long before an elderly gentleman appeared from out-back of the café, approached us and started to compliment us on our haircuts and asked us if we were both still at school. We said we were and had just started our summer holidays. He asked if either of us was interested in having a job over the holidays as the café normally got busy during that period? John said that he already had something planned, but I said that I would be interested but would need to speak to my parents first. We exchanged phone numbers and I said I would give him a call later that afternoon. When I arrived home, my parents were deep in boxes sorting things out. I explained to father about the offer of working in the café during the school holidays. He asked about hours and rates of pay which I said I didn’t know, as I had informed the café owner that I would need to speak to them first. I gave him the telephone number and he rang the owner up. Everything was sorted out and I could start work there the next day.

The next morning, I went down stairs and father said that the café owner would be providing me with a uniform when I reported for work so not to worry about what I should wear. I left the house and ran all the way to the café, excited to start the new job. Everything was explained to me and for the first few days until I got into the routine of the café, I would be clearing tables, cleaning them down, sweeping up and helping the customers.

It was nearing the end of the afternoon on the third day, when a family walked into the café and sat down. I recognized the lad as one of the kids from the park. I approached the table and asked how I could help them. The man looked up from the menu and was about to say something when the lad started to snigger. The man looked over at the boy and asked him what was the matter. I replied that I think he is laughing at my haircut. We bumped into each other in the park and him and his friends started to call my friend and I names because of our haircuts. The man looked at the boy and asked if this was correct. The boy admitted what had happened. The man turned to me, introduced himself as the father of the boy and that there was nothing wrong with my haircut. In fact, he wished his son would get a proper haircut instead of the birds nest he had. He asked me which barber I had gone to, as he was going to deal with his arrogant son once and for all. I replied that it was none of the high street barbers and as I was new to the area, didn’t know the address but I could take him there.

After speaking to the father, it was arranged that the lad would meet me here the next day and, during my lunch break, I would take his son for a haircut. I could tell the lad was not very happy but there was nothing he could do about it. I proceeded to take their order, provided them with their food and drinks and as they were leaving, the father shook my hand and said he would make sure his son would be here tomorrow.

I was lying in bed that night and it suddenly dawned on me that the man who cut my hair might not be around, then what would I do?

As my lunch break approached the next day, I could see the lad standing outside. I asked the owner if it would be ok to take my break. I put on my coat, went outside and told the lad to follow me. He said that he would go to his normal hairdresser and get it cut, but I reminded him what his father had said. With a glum face, he followed me and it was not long before we were standing outside of the house. I knocked on the door, not knowing if anyone would answer. To my relief, the man opened the door, dressed in the same clothes and asked what I was doing back so soon. I explained that this lad had been making fun of John and I and that his father had sent him here for a proper haircut. The man just laughed and said that it would be a pleasure to relieve the individual of the birds’ nest on the top of his head.

We made our way into the room and the lad said that it was disgusting and he was not having his hair cut in this place. Again, I think it was the wrong thing to say because the barber grabbed hold of him, frog-marched him over to the large wooden chair and wrapped a cape around him. He then told the lad not to move and not to say anything else. The barber looked at me and asked if the father had given any specific instructions, I just said he really admired my haircut but I think he would appreciate a shorter cut. The barber just laughed and said that he didn’t think the haircut could be shorter unless he shaved the back and sides and took the top down to a zero. I just said that I thought that would be perfect as the lad didn’t think he had any skills and, that my haircut was because I had lice.


With a stern look on his face, the barber turned to the cupboard, picked up the big clippers, turned them on, switched the top, pushed the lads head down and slowly started to push the clippers all the way up. The best part was he didn’t stop at the top of his head, but pushed them all the way to the front of his head. The amount of hair that fell onto the cape was amazing. The process was repeated a couple of more times and then the barber switched to the left side. Those clippers certainly did an excellent job of removing hair in its path. It was not long before the same process was repeated on the other side of the lad’s head. Once satisfied, the barber brushed off the loose hair, picked up a smaller pair of clippers, placed them on the side of the lad’s head, turned to me and asked if where he had placed them was ok or, did I want them higher. I of course said higher. The barber laughed and said that if he removed the hair right up the side of his head and followed it around in an oval, he would end up with a high and tight haircut. Perfect I said.

The clippers were switched on and what little hair was left, was removed all around the back and sides. Thinking it was over, I was getting ready to leave when the barber said he had one more thing to do to complete the haircut. With that, he placed a towel around the shoulders of the lad, produced a can of shaving foam and lathered around the back and sides. He told the lad to stay still and with a razor, removed all of the foam around his head. With a spray of water and using the towel, the barber wiped off any remnants of the foam. This process had fascinated me. It was something I had never seen before. The barber satisfied with his work, removed the cape and asked the lad for payment. The lad was completely shell shocked. I thought that it would be a while before he started verbally abusing kids with short hair again. He started making his way to the front door, once open, he ran off.

The barber looked at me and said, you really enjoyed watching that didn’t you? I had to admit that I had enjoyed it, especially when he applied the foam and shaved it off. The barber then said hop into the chair and I will do the same to you and you can feel what it’s like to have it shaved. I told him I didn’t have any money but he said that there would be no charge. So, in the space of a few days, here I was, once again, getting a haircut. He explained that my hair was still very short so he would just shave it straight off, then blend the rest in.

Caped and towel tucked in, shaving foam was spread around my head, the barber changed the blade on the razor and started to remove the foam. The sensation was unbelievable as I heard the razor rasp against my head clearing everything in its path. All too soon it was over, but then the barber reapplied the foam and starting from the base of my neck, worked his way up towards the crown. He explained that by going against the growth of the hair, it produced an even smoother finish. Once this process was complete, he sprayed water on my head and toweled off the excess to dry my head. With the smaller clippers he proceeded to blend in from the shaved part to the hair remaining on the top of my head. Once satisfied, he dusted me down, removed the cape and for the first time I felt the really smooth skin around my head. The feeling was tremendous. I thanked the barber for the experience and told him I would be back fairly soon. Outside, I couldn’t stop rubbing my head and thought I couldn’t wait to see John and tell him all about my experience.

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