Short Cuts To Success by Deke Cutter

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Sam sat in the den of his parents home. He was embarrassed, uncomfortable, and desperate. He had the engineering degree, the internships, the MBA, but he couldn’t get a decent job. He had tried one of the big Architecture and Engineering firms. He’d tried USAJobs to get into the Federal government, but he never quite made it past the first or second cut. So now he was here swallowing his pride and asking his father for help.

"Well Sam, you know I am glad to help you. I am proud of you for doing the hard part on your own. Unfortunately, those big tax cuts for the one percent that the last guy gave have meant a lot less revenue going into the government coffers so there are fewer government jobs available too. But I have talked to my friends and colleagues, actually, I just needed to show them your stellar resume and I got some interest. How is your schedule for this Tuesday? Nick Mailer, my old assistant, has done well with that crowd down in North Carolina’s Research Triangle. He thinks he can use you on a big environmental cleanup at one of the bases down there."

"Dad," Sam said, this could be it. Thanks."

"Nick can be a great mentor for you too, son. Listen to him, learn from him, trust his judgement."

Tuesday Sam met with Nick and aced the interview. "Nick, I am so thrilled to get this opportunity. Thank you."

‘Don’t be so quick to thank me Sam, this position has been difficult to fill for a couple of reasons. Let me make sure you fully understand. First of all, once you get your security clearance updated, you will be spending a good deal of time on the military base. Our contract is with the Army Corps of Engineers, and you will be reporting through the company’s chain of command, but Col. Burton from the Corps, and the General in charge of the base will be involved in overseeing the contract. The manager for us is one of our best people. He served in ACE, as everybody calls the Corps and understands the military side of things. You need to be his right hand. Robert Carman (everybody calls him Rocky) is a tough as boots guy and does like the military way of doing things. He’ll probably comment on your haircut and your clothes. If you accept the job, you are accepting all of this. At the end of the 3-year performance period, this could set you up for an incredible future, but it won’t be a walk in the park; more of a march across the parade grounds. Take a few days to think it over."

Sam thought it over, discussed it with his dad and accepted the job. His new employer was quite generous and accommodating about his move to North Carolina. He would be starting in the corporate offices just a mile off the base. He’d been told that a tie and jacket were appropriate for working in the office. He chose a classic blue blazer with grey trousers, white shirt, and striped tie. Rocky was meeting with the Army folks on the base so Sam would not meet him until the afternoon.

Just after Sam had finished his lunch and returned to his review of the project documents, his phone buzzed. "Hi Sam, its Carol, Rocky’s administrative assistant, he can see you now." When Sam arrived at Rocky’s office, the door was closed. Carol, who sat just outside the door said: just knock, he should be finished." Sam didn’t know what that meant, but he knocked.

"Enter," came the reply to Sam’s knock. He entered the office to find Rocky buttoning his crisply starched short sleeve white shirt and then putting on a somber looking tie. "Ah, Sam, we meet at last." Rocky looked even harder in person than his picture on the company website. He was 5’10" of muscle topped off with a brutally short haircut, buzzed sided, a couple of inches on top, severely parted and slicked down. "Sit down, son." Rocky pointed to one of the chairs at the small conference table across from his desk. As Sam turned toward the table, he saw an Army uniform on hangers on the coat hook jutting from the door. "I had Reserves duty this weekend and I logged in another 6 hours this morning. It will give me a chance for a decent uninterrupted vacation this summer. Enough about me. How are you getting on with the documents, and settling in?"

Sam replied, "everybody has been very helpful. I got all my supplies and my temporary ID. The project plan reads like this is a great fit for my skill sets."

"Good, good. I’ve checked with our security folks, and it looks like your clearance from your last job hasn’t lapsed yet, so we should have it activated by the end of the week. [Author’s note-this would most likely never happen IRL. The process always takes too long.] So, we can get you ready to get on-site and digging in, so to speak. Let’s get you over to Williams’ Clothing shop and get your uniforms ordered."

"Uniforms, sir?"

"Yes, Sam. Since we are working on a military reservation, we like to have our staff readily identifiable. There are plenty of civilian workers on the base, as well as off-duty soldiers in civilian clothes. We want our staff to look clean and crisp and to stand out. In fact, it is one of the performance criteria for bonus payments in the contract. Come on, let’s head out." As they drove toward their destination, Rocky pointed out various local landmarks. Then he surprised Sam, saying: "You know, we might as well take care of that hair before we get you measured for the cap."

"My hair sir," Sam exclaimed. "I didn’t realize it was a problem." Sam’s hair was well cut and styled. It was a medium length, but not tapered and long enough to brush back on the sides.

"Oh, it’s not a problem, it’s an opportunity," said Rocky. Something in the way Rocky said those words, jocular, but brooking no dissent, reminded Sam of the advice Nick Mailer had given him before he accepted the job.

"Roger that," Sam replied using a term he had heard around cubicle land, where his workstation was, that morning.

"Outstanding!" The reply came quickly from Rocky, just as he pulled into a strip mall and parked in front of a storefront with a large plate glass window and a sign that proclaimed ‘BARBER Discount for Military and Uniformed Municipal Services.’ "Leave it to me, we’ll have this taken care of quickly." Sam, feeling a good deal of trepidation, followed Rocky into the shop. The shop had four barbers and five chairs. The barbers all seemed to know Rocky. "Gents, this is Sam, my new Assistant Project Manager. We want him to get off to a fresh start. Who’s up for the job."

The barber sitting in the chair closest to the front window, stood quickly and said: "Take a seat, Sam." Sam climbed into the big comfortable chair, impressed by the way all the chrome shined. Running a comb through Sam’s hair, the barber introduced himself as Rolly, adding "this is my shop. He looked over and saw Rocky joking with the other barbers, one of whom was making him a cup of coffee. Then, lowering his voice, Rolly said, "this is going to be a very short haircut, just trust me on this. His last assistant, jumped out of the chair and left as soon as I turned the Osters on."

"Thanks for the warning. I’m ready for this, I think," said Sam. Little did he know. The barber caped him and then gently nudged his head forward. Placing the number 1 blade on the Osters, Rolly pushed them up the back of Sam’s head, leaving a trail of stubble all the way up to the crown. He quickly got into his rhythm and cleaned the back and sides of Sam’s head. Sam thought that the cruelest cut was the total removal of his sideburns right up to the top of his ears. He soon realized that this haircut wasn’t that simple. Soon the clippers were put on hairline and pushed straight back. Sam’s eyes got as wide as saucers, just as Rocky returned to the front of the shop. Rocky had a satisfied smile on his face as the barber continued to clear all but the shortest of stubble from Sam’s head.

"Yes sirree!" Rocky could hardly contain his glee. We used to call that a ‘baldy sour’ when I was getting them every summer as a kid, but when I reported for basic training, I learned that the U.S. Army called it an induction cut and it suits you well."

The barber applied shaving cream around the edges of the stubble and scraped it off with a straight razor. Then he carefully removed the cape and Sam could finally stand. "Holy cow," exclaimed the newly shorn Sam, reaching up to touch his head and finding that he hands were an inch or more too high now that the bulk of his hair was gone. Looking in the mirror, he saw that his ears stuck out a bit and his nose looked bigger. Rubbing his hand on his head was almost electrifying when he felt that the stubble. He turned and thanked Rolly and shook his hand. He looked to Rocky and said, "when Nick said he was happy to recruit me for this job, I didn’t think I would end up looking like a new recruit."

Rocky, having paid Rolly and tipped him well, turned to Sam and said, "come on young recruit, let’s go see about your uniform." As they walked outside, Sam was stunned at the feel of the sun beating down on his scalp and how pleasant the breeze felt blowing gently against his head. After they were both in Rocky’s car, Rocky, gave Sam’s head a rub and said, "you handled that like a man, Sam. No tears, no fuss. And now that you’ve had that mop shorn off, it will be much easier for you to adapt to regulation cuts in the future." By the time Sam had been measured and fitted from his cap (with no expandable band, he noticed) down to his steel toed boots for safety on-site, they just had time to return to the office where Sam’s haircut was received with a surprising lack of mocking or teasing. He realized that this was an initiation and he had passed with flying colors.

That evening, though, Sam stood looking in his bathroom mirror. His thoughts were: "I look ridiculous. It will take months to get combable hair again. At least this will save me some time in the morning." When he lay down on his bed that night, the bristles rubbing against his pillow was a very unpleasant feeling. "I know Rocky’s hair is super short, but I hope he lets me grow enough hair for a bit of a taper in the back, so I don’t have this scratchiness every month."

Two weeks later, Sam was happy that, while not quite like suede, his bristles had settled down and rubbing his head with the grain was a pleasant experience. His security clearance having been sorted; he was finally going to have a chance to get full access to the project on the base. So, dressed in the company uniform, Sam arrived at the office to meet with Rocky and then head off to the base. Rocky was a great boss. Sam was surprised how open he was to Sam’s ideas and how willing he was to give advice and share knowledge with Sam. Sam was getting used to some of the more military aspects of the job. A dress code was very much in evidence. Almost every man on Rocky’s staff had shown signs of a fresh haircut during the time since Sam was scalped. But Rocky had never mentioned Sam’s haircut since they returned from the barber. Well, Sam, thought, no verbal mention. He did recall Rocky giving his head a rub on two occasions when Rocky was pleased with something Sam said or done something Rocky liked. While Sam was used to his new buzzed look, he was also certain he was probably at least six weeks away from even considering a "neck trim" visit to the barber.

"O.K. Sam," Rocky said to his protégé, I don’t usually allow head coverings inside, but put that cap on and give me ‘a quick 360’."

Sam did as he was asked, thinking, "at least I don’t have to worry about hat hair yet."

"Looking pretty crisp, let’s head out. My car is already over at the base. I parked over there early today and made the walk back over here. So, you’re driving. Don’t forget to put in for mileage reimbursement. Oh, and you remember the way to Rolly’s, it’s that time." Rocky pointed to his own hair and said, "can’t let standards slip." Sam was thinking that this was kind of cool. He’d get to see how much Rocky got cut and maybe he would have a chance to open the question of which of the cuts on the vintage posters were acceptable for him in that distant future date when he had enough hair to cut.

"Good morning gents, Rolly said, as the two men entered the shop. Rollie and another barber who looked to be around 30 years old were the only other people in the shop. "Sam, this is Jimmy." Sam and Jimmy shook hands. To Sam’s surprise, Jimmy then put his hand on Sam’s back and led his gently but firmly toward his chair.

"Oh, I’m not…" Sam began. But got no further.

"Not going to go ahead of me?" Rocky added. "That’s very respectful, Sam, but Rolly will be cutting my hair. You go ahead and let Jimmy clean you up." Trapped, Sam sat down in Jimmy’s chair.

Rocky and Rolly had immediately begun a discussion of the previous night’s NBA game. Jimmy lowered his voice as he caped and taped Sam. "I take it you weren’t planning on getting a haircut today. Just trust me, this is a process with Rocky." With that, Jimmy picked up his Osters and started running them up the back of Sam’s head. Sam was ready to cry, thinking he was in for another induction cut. But Jimmy only cleaned the short hairs on the back of his head and then moved on to the sides. As the sides were "cleaned up," Sam saw that what was developing on his head was a high and tight. With less than a quarter inch of hair on top, he though it hardly made a difference, but after Jimmy had cleaned up the edges, Sam could see that this was somewhat less brutal than the full induction cut. Noticing that Rocky was still loudly pontificating in the other occupied chair, Jimmy again in barely a whisper said, "We’ll start letting the sides grow next time. You’ll get some length back eventually, but never challenge Rocky about it."

On the drive to the base after their haircuts, Rocky reached over and rubbed the back of Sam’s head. "Nice and clean. Good man. Looks like Jimmy will be your barber." And so, it went. It took about six more months before Sam had enough hair for what he considered enough to comb over with enough to flip up in the front.

"At least I have as much hair as the soldiers I see on the base," Sam thought. He found himself being given more freedom by Rocky. He was often on the base without Rocky and Rocky even let him meet with the Colonel Burton who oversaw their project. After a rough meeting with the Colonel, the ACE civilian staff, and a Senior Executive from the EPA, the Colonel called Sam into his office and complimented him on how well he had managed the meeting and the project. "Let’s go grab some lunch, Sam." Sam was so gratified by the invitation that he readily agreed. As they walked over toward the Commissary, the Colonel turned into another building and Sam’s heart sank. ‘Base Barbershop,’ said the sign. "I’m overdue for my weekly cut," explained the Colonel. I usually get it on Saturday or Sunday, but my kids had soccer and basketball finals this weekend. Come on, this won’t take us long." Sam held out hope that maybe only the Colonel would be getting his haircut. His hopes were quickly dashed. "Colonel," said one of the civilian barbers, "right on time. And this must be your guest. Sir, the Colonel is in my chair, and you are with Devon."

Sam sat down in the chair. As he was about to direct Devon to give him a light trim. "The weather is really warming up," said the Colonel. You know how I like it in the summer. Go ahead and give us both one of my summer cuts." These barbers, even though they were civilians, knew an order when they heard it and both went to work. Sam’s hard-earned taper was soon history and the top was cropped from a half inch at the crown to about an inch and a half at the front. The short bangs were soon waxed up. When he was turned to face the mirror, Sam saw himself with what he thought of as a sort of juvenile looking crewcut. His short sideburns were gone and his hair was faded military style to just a shadow at the top of the sides. Both barbers finished at about the same time and Colonel had a big smile on his face. "Now this is what I call a summer haircut. Sam, I wanted my favorite contractor to experience this cut."

"Well thanks, sir. Wow, this is short, but it does feel a lot cooler. I’m glad to have had the experience," Sam replied. That night, Sam was miserable as he looked in his bathroom mirror, and placed the Butch Wax stick the barber gave him into the medicine cabinet. "I look like a complete dork," he said to his image in the mirror.

"But you are my dork," said his girlfriend, as she gently ran her hand up the back of his head. "Oh, I like the way this feels. I could get used to this." Sam sighed as they walked together toward the bedroom. "Don’t get too used to it", he said. Two years and four months and I’ll be letting my freak flag fly again." His girlfriend rolled her eyes and led him gently toward the bed.

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