Fantasy to Reality by buzztob

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Fantasy to Reality
by
buzztob

I had been fascinated, for as long as I can remember, of watching men and boys having a haircut. For me, the shorter the better. On Saturdays, I would ride my bike around the local area, going past as many barbers’ shops as I could. The knack, was to go just past the shop, go to the other side of the road, making sure I could see into the shop, and sit on my bike. Some shops had really large windows, and I could see people getting their hair cut. Others, I couldn’t really see in, so would just wait for the people to leave and see how short their hair was. My hair at the time, was just over the top of my ears, touching the collar, and was very thick. It was how my parents liked it. I never received more than a light trim, and would go every 6 weeks or so, with my father. He would always tell the barber how to cut my hair so I never got a say on how I would like it cut.

I would lie in bed at night, dreaming of walking into a very old-fashioned barbers’ shop. The barber would tell me that my hair was far too long and he would give me a really short haircut. He would take great pleasure in running the clippers up the back and sides of my head and cutting the top short. Sometimes, I would imagine the clippers running all over my head, reducing my hair to a spiky finish. What a fantasy and thrill.

Some of my classmates had short hair. I would always try to sit behind them in class, so I could have a closer look at their hair. I would be elated, when one of them would turn up at school with a fresh haircut. There was one lad, who always had a brutally short haircut. There never seemed to be much hair on the back and sides of his head. It was short, all the way up to the crown and the top, was also short. When he turned up one day, after one of his haircuts, you could see his scalp on the top of his head. Would I want to go that short? My parents would have a fit if I returned home one day with my hair like that.

I made a particular effort to get to know this lad and after a while, I casually brought up the subject of haircuts. I told him that I hated my hairstyle, but my parents insisted on it being cut like this. He said that his dad took him to see Fred. At first, he was not very happy going there, but now enjoyed the experience and liked his short haircut. It kept him cool and took no time to dry after a shower. I asked him if it was one of the local shops and which one. I thought I could spend more time hovering outside that shop, if they produced haircuts like that.

He told me that it was not a shop. Fred operated out of his conservatory. His house was not far from where the lad lived. His father had met Fred in the local pub. The lad explained that Fred had moved into the house after leaving the army. He only cut hair on a Saturday, as he worked in a local factory during the week. He charged a fraction of the local barbers’ prices, so his dad started to go to him. Now we go together on a regular basis. I asked the lad exactly where it was and when he told me, I knew I would be riding there next Saturday.

I was up bright and early on the Saturday, looking forward to checking out Fred. It didn’t take me long to find the house. Going past, the garden had a low wall and you could see directly into the conservatory. I saw a bright red barber’s chair with a mirror in front. People were already in there. Luckily, just across the road, there was a bus stop with a bench. I made my way there, propped up my bike and sat down. You could see directly into the conservatory.

A man, who I took to be Fred, was in the process of running clippers up the side of a man’s head. It was unbelievable how clear I could see the process being carried out. The only downside, there was no sound! Watching Fred at work, brought a tingling sensation to my body. Various clippers were run around the man’s head. Hair was tumbling down over the cape. Fred was fast and soon the man in the chair was standing up, handing money over and walking out. The man was heading straight towards me. Had I been rumbled? He jumped down off the wall, walked over to the bus stop and stopped. The man’s hair looked amazing. It had been totally removed up to the bump at the back of the head. From there to the crown was a gradual blend up, with a sharp parting. The hair on top was short, but long enough to sweep over. The man looked at me and asked if I knew what time the bus was due. I said no, I had only stopped to have a rest from riding my bike. I couldn’t stop looking at the haircut. How I would love to get a haircut like that. Unfortunately, the bus arrived soon after, and the man departed.

Turning my attention back to the conservatory, a young lad was sitting in the chair. The hair on the back and sides had already been removed. I wondered if this was the only haircut that Fred knew how to cut. With clippers in hand, he changed the guard and started to run them all over the top of the lad’s head. It was over quickly. The lad was out the chair, paid and left. Do I ride over to the front of the house, catch up with the lad so I can have a close look at his haircut or stay. I decided to stay.

Looking at my watch, I couldn’t believe how quickly the time had gone. I was starting to get thirsty and hungry. I thought I would watch one more haircut, then go home. It was as I sat there watching another person have all his hair cut off, that a familiar voice made me turn my head. Standing there, was the lad from my class who had told me about Fred, and his father. He asked me what I was doing here. I said that I had been out for a bike ride and had just stopped to have a rest and cool down a little. His father said, I’m not surprised you need to cool off with all that hair. Why don’t you come with us and get a haircut. We are going to see Fred. Going through my mind was; Yes, get a proper haircut; No, my parents would have a fit. In the end, I decided to chicken out and said that I didn’t have any money. The man said not to worry, he would pay for me to have a haircut.

With that, he picked up my bike and started walking towards the house. The lad just said that he hoped there wouldn’t be too many people waiting. As we walked down the side of the house, the man propped my bike against a wall, opened the conservatory door and said hello to Fred. There were two young boys waiting, and a man sitting in the chair, just having his haircut finished off. The man was dusted down and the cape removed. As he stood up, he told one of the boys to get in the chair. Once caped, Fred turned to the man and asked what’s he having? The man replied, two on top and the back and sides cleared. Fred asked if he wanted clippers on the back and sides or foiled. The man replied, foiled. That was a new description for me. What was foiled?

Straight off, Fred picked up his clippers, put a guard on them and ran them straight over the top. This was repeated until all of the hair had been removed. Fred then picked up the smaller clippers and starting at the back, nudged the lads head down and started to remove all of the hair right up to the crown. He followed the line he had carved out around to the sides. Next, Fred picked up, what to me looked like the shaver my dad used, switched it on, and started to run it all over the back and sides of the boy’s head. Fred just kept on pushing the shaver over the boy’s bare neck and sides. He would run his finger over where he had just been with the shaver, checking the result. Once satisfied, Fred picked up the clippers again, changed the guard, and started to blend the little hair left on top into the shaved area. It was fascinating, watching Fred flicking the lever on the side of the clippers in order to blend the hair. Selecting the smaller clippers again, he went around the head, just touching where hair and shaved area joined. Satisfied with his work, he turned to the father and asked if that was ok. The man said that it was good and he would have the same again for the other lad.

It didn’t take Fred long to finish off the second boy and with them leaving the conservatory, there was just three of us left. Fred turned to the lad’s father and said it was nice to see him and his son back, but didn’t realise he had a daughter. It suddenly dawned on me that he was referring to me. The father just laughed and said, that I was one of his son’s classmates who needed a haircut, to keep him cool whilst out riding his bike. Fred laughed and said that it would not be a problem. I was instructed to sit in the red barber’s chair. Once seated, I was caped and Fred started to run a comb through my hair. Fred turned to the man and said, he has very thick, long hair. I’m not surprised he gets hot and bothered riding his bike around. He asked the man how he should cut my hair. I thought, hold on, it’s my hair, why are you not asking me. I was just about to say something when the man said to cut it similar to his sons last haircut. That way, there will be two smart kids in the class.

Fred then said 1 top, zero back and sides? Perfect the man said. I sat there, thinking of my fantasy, do I say something or just let it happen? The decision was taken out of my hands, when I felt the clippers hit the front of my head, and start to travel backwards. This sent a tingling sensation down my body. Pass after pass I watched in the mirror, the thick dark hair tumble down onto the cape. The guard was removed and with a nudge of my head downwards, the clippers started to run from the nape of my neck to the top of my head. The sensation was unbelievable. I could sit here all day and let the clippers run over my head. The hair on the sides followed next. Once the hair had been removed, Fred turned to the man and asked if it was just no guard clipper length, small clipper or foiled. The man said, oh let’s go foil. I really liked the haircut you gave the last two boys.

Without further hesitation, the small clippers were switched on, removing the already short hair on the back and sides, to nothing. What followed next, was beyond my wildest dreams. The shaver, although slightly tugging my hair when Fred started, changed to a smooth glide around my head. As Fred started to run his finger up my head following the shaver, the smoothness I felt had me literally shaking in the chair. I had never felt anything like it. My fantasy had become a reality. After a few tweaks with the small clippers where the shaved area met the top, I was dusted down and the cape removed. Immediately I ran my hand over the back of my head. It felt so soft and smooth. There must have been a smile on my face, as Fred said, I think he enjoyed that.

My classmate climbed into the chair and I sat mesmerized watching Fred produce a similar cut to mine. The father followed, and although he didn’t get the same haircut as ours, he still received a really short back and sides, foiled part way.

Outside, I thanked the man, said to his son I would see him at school on Monday and started to pedal away. It was then it hit home, now I have to face the wrath of my parents.

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