A Dose of My Own Medicine by Manny

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“Who’s that cocky fellow down there?" I asked, nodding at a handsome youth in the middle of a gaggle of people hanging onto his every word.

“Blondie?" my administrative aide Jed replied with a smirk. “Why that’s the grandson of Dr. Chelton Harper, the Chairman of the Board of Trustees! A letter came from him this morning addressed to you. I put it in your inbox."

I watched the lad flick his showy mane about as he held the other college freshmen’s attention in rapt adulation. He struck a “cool" pose with his hands in his pocket and a posture that screamed out “I don’t give a damn!"

And that massive forelock!! Most of the time hiding half his face. Was it ever thick and glossy!

“Blondie is going to learn more than Shakespeare and the Second World War this year," I sneered. “Bring him to my office!"

Jed scampered away, snickering. He loved to see a cocky lad put in his place!

“I’ll tell him there’s a special welcome from the Dean of Students for the grandson for the Board Chairman," Jed laughed.

Jed was quite officious and very forceful with the college students. He had no problem commanding Blondie away from his instant fan club and hauling him into my imposing presence. The huge wood-paneled office with portraits, pennants and floor to ceiling shelves of ancient books in elaborate bindings enhanced the intimidating scene.

I waited for Blondie to be brought in, relaxing in the huge leather desk chair behind the carved wood desk, imaging how things would go.

The door opened and the lad shuffled in slowly with his shoulders hunched and his hair in his face.

“You wanted to see me?" he said in an unenthusiastic tone.

If he was cultivating the “Sullen Cullen" image, he certainly was succeeding. But, he would soon learn that Dean Perk could be a real jerk!

“Yes, Cullen," I replied stiffly.

He went to take a seat, but I told him to remain standing.

“Dr. Harper, your grandfather, is very concerned that you set an example on campus," I began in an officious tone. “I received a letter from him this morning."

I lifted the correspondence, so that he could see it.

Blondie shifted nervously on his feet. He flicked his hair back. There was a fleeting line of sight before the forelock veiled his face again.

“I would offer you a bobby pin, but I think a trip to the barber shop would be a better solution for that problem," I said tersely.

Blondie shot me a defiant look.

“Which reminds me. It is Dr. Harper’s wish that you not to be treated in any special way. That is, not indulged or molly-coddled. No rule bent or relaxed on your account. In fact, it is his express will that the standards for you be made higher! The family name should not be brought to shame. Is that understood Cullen Harper?" I snapped.

Any remaining color in his face fled. He blanched and his face looked queasy.

“Yes, sir," Cullen murmured.

“I didn’t hear that clearly!" I said, rising to my feet.

“Yes, SIR!" came an anguished bellow, as if he were in boot camp.

“Now, let’s take care of that hair! I will drive you myself to the barber shop in town," I said firmly.

“But, I…." Cullen whined.

“No arguing! I’m sure Dr. Harper will expect a good report about our first interaction," I insisted. “Now, go wait for me in the outer office while I finish up my business here."

Cullen slunk out, in a daze.

Jed picked up where I left off.

“So, you got your little pep talk from Dean Perk," he commented.

“Did I ever," Cullen replied. “Can I sit here? I tried to sit in there, but he made me stand while he delivered his lecture."

“The Dean was on a little power trip, no doubt. He usually is. And, I’m the one who normally is on the receiving end of his orders," Jed sympathized. “Sure, take a seat. And, let me give you some advice. Don’t give Dean Perk any lip, or you’ll regret it. Understood?"

“He’s taking me to the barber shop! He’s having my hair cut!" Cullen stammered as he pawed at his overgrown mane.

“I’m not surprised. Where he’s probably taking you….let me put it like this, the barber will be listening to HIS instructions, not yours. Understood?" Jed drove home the point. “Best to sit quietly and submissively in the chair and hope to emerge with a little something on top."

“It won’t be cut that short, will it?" Cullen asked in a doubtful tone as he mopped his forelock back.

Jed let out a chuckle. “Dream on, Cullen. Snipped nice and short, above the eyebrows!"

“I knew my grandfather was old fashioned and anal, but I never figured he’d write the Dean of Students a letter, or have him keep an eye on me," Cullen whimpered. “I thought college meant freedom."

“Not when your last name is Harper and you’ve come to this institution," Jed chuckled.

As I walked in, I heard Jed give one final word of advice.

“Be cooperative and respectful, that’s your best strategy with the dean. Any lip or sass and you’ll end up looking like an army recruit!" Jed said.

Cullen was fondling his blond locks possessively when I entered.

“Okay, let’s go, young man!" I said breezily, showing him the door.

It was so much fun marching him through the Administrative Building to the car! He was no longer playing the big-man-on-campus, regaling his fawning pack with rot. He was meek and submissive, and he was on his way to get a proper haircut! My mission was to turn him into a model, respectful young adult.

“Your grandfather has also asked me to personally make sure you attend church every Sunday, Cullen. I will pick you up in front of your dorm at 9:45 precisely. Suit and tie expected. That goes without saying," I said in a clipped tone, further ruining the lad’s hope of wild, party college days.

I glanced at his shaggy mop! Overgrown, for sure, but such lovely, glossy hair with natural highlights. I would ask the barber for arches! Big, exaggerated arches to frame his ears which were now fully draped and concealed by golden locks of hair.

Cullen sat quietly in the car as I drove him into town.

I noticed the trendy, tattered jeans he was wearing. All in shreds and faded.

“By the way, your grandfather does not want you wearing jeans to class, Cullen," I said, to break the silence.

“What?!" he stammered.

“Actually, he prefer that you not wear them at all. But, I may allow you a little latitude on the weekends. Saturdays and after church on Sunday evenings. But new, stiff, blue jeans. Not those!" I exclaimed.

“But, church ends at noon!" Cullen exclaimed.

“You’re forgetting vespers," I said. “The music is so soothing. Learning to sit still and quiet and pretend to be paying attention is an important life-skill you can learn in church. And with your hair cut short, dressed in a suit and tie, you will look like a proper college boy from when your grandfather was a freshman."

With that mention of his hair being cut short, we arrived at the barber shop.

Cullen looked beyond nervous. He wanted to say something, but he bit his lip.

“What is it, Cullen?" I asked.

“It’s just that. Well, my ears stick out something awful, and I was wondering if…." he began his sob story.

I had to contain my glee. Oh, large ears! That would keep him humble.

“…if I might ask the barber to not cut it short, off the ears?" I said to finish his request.

“Yes, sir," he said, his eyes brightening at the thought he might be spared the humiliation.

“But the bangs," I began.

“Oh, they can be cut short," he said eagerly. “I’m actually quite tired of the hair over my eyes all the time."

“Yes, I can see how annoying that would be," I said, in a soothing, conciliatory tone.

“Thank you, Dean Perk," Cullen replied.

“It’s just that your grandfather mentioned a sporty, short taper," I said.

Cullen’s cheer evaporated instantly.

“With clippers?" he asked skeptically.

“That’s the best way to get the taper crisp and short!" I chirped. “Clipped tight up the back! All that hair is coming off your collar, off your neck, and off your nape."

I glanced into the rearview mirror and admired my own nicely brushed chestnut-colored hair that was trimmed into a full, stylized executive coif. Without product to keep it swept into a quiff, I’m sure my forelock would be dangling just as annoyingly in my eyes.

Cullen looked very glum as he dragged himself out of the car.

“Cheer up! It’s just a haircut, not an execution," I said in a saccharine-sweet tone. “You and I are going to become friends this semester. If my hair were a bit longer, I’d be getting a trim along with you. Caped up, side by side, having our hair cut. But, today, it’s just that mop of yours! Say goodbye to the shag, Cullen."

I pushed the door to the West Elm Barber Shop open and motioned for Cullen to go in.

The lad was in a daze, in denial, as he wandered into the barber shop.

Two elderly men dressed in matching white barber tunics were standing, as if waiting for their next clients. The taller one sported a shorn look, his gray hair clipped tight all over. Just a little tuft remained to give him the classic look of a crewcut. The other, stout barber had snow white locks that were cut to a standard business length and parted on the side.

“Dean Perk, good afternoon, sir," the older one said. “I see you have a new student for us today."

“Yes, this is Cullen Harper. Which of you is going to do him the honors of transforming him from so sloppy into a tidy collegiate look?" I asked.

“Over here, fellow," the stout barber said, patting his big barber chair on the white enamel arm.

Cullen gave me a last, pleading look before he dragged himself over to the throne-like chair. He climbed up slowly onto the footrest, as if it were requiring every ounce of energy in his body, and then flopped down into the chair. His golden locks swished around in the neon as he got settled in for the big chop.

“Sit up straight, boy," the barber commanded.

A huge white cape sailed through the air. The stout barber pulled tight around the neck and fastened it securely with a huge metal clip. Then he took a comb and tried to yank it through the mop.

Cullen winced in pain. The barber was not deterred. He kept yanking the comb through the dense locks until it all hung straight down over eyes, ears and collar.

“Any special instructions?" the barber asked me.

“Cullen is worried about his ear sticking out. Perhaps some arches would help in that regard?" I asked, trying to mask my tone of enjoyment.

The barbers suppressed a chuckle.

“Yes, I think so. Big, exaggerated arches," the stout barber concluded as he took the shears out of his chest pocket embroidered with the name Vince.

He combed the massive forelock straight down a few more times and primed the shears.

“Let’s take care of this first so that the lad can watch his haircut transformation," Vince noted.

SNIP, SNIP, SNIP.

The barber began midway between the eyebrows and hairline, snipping diagonally up to the corner. Cullen was getting angled bangs!

The amber locks with golden highlights fell in large clumps to the white cape.

Cullen swallowed nervously as he took in his new hideous angled bangs.

“We need to thin these so that they lay down flat to your scalp," the barber said as he switched the regular shears of thinning shears.

He whacked away at the short bangs, thinning the bulk out of them.

Thinner and wispier they became until the barber pronounced, “There, much better."

“A short taper you said?" Vince asked me, just to confirm what he already knew.

“Yes. Taper him to zero and show some skin. I’ve always thought boys with whitewalls look very tidy," I said.

Cullen let a muffled gasp escape. That someone was speaking for him obviously made him feel especially impotent.

Vince snapped on the huge set of Oster clippers and pushed the lad’s head down. Right up the back, he ran the machine, sending sheaves of glistening blond hair to the checked linoleum floor of the barber shop. I watched the locks pile up in heaps like haystacks at the barber’s feet.

“Are you going to leave him with any hair?" the other barber joked.

“Not much!" exclaimed Vince. “Shaggy lads are trouble."

“I totally agree," I interjected. “Fortunately, his grandfather sent some instructions and I will carry them out to the letter."

“Arches or whitewalls?" Vince asked me as he was preparing to tackle the sides.

“You decide," I said.

“I’m partial to whitewalls. They show off the ears better," Vince replied.

Again, Cullen had to stymie a gasp of horror.

The first ear was quickly uncovered by the Oster’s. I let out a whistle.

“Those really stick out!" I laughed.

Cullen didn’t even try to protest.

“Big ears build character with fellows who are trying to fit in at college," I added. “So what if they call you ‘Dumbo’ on account of those elephant ears? Let them stick out with pride!"

Vince began working some strong-smelling pomade into the remnants of Cullen’s hair, turning it from blond to brown in the process.

“This will make for a very straight part and help keep his hair plastered to the side," the barber remarked.

Vince finished slicking the stiff strands into perfect order. The small head was dwarfed by the huge ears.

“I think he looks mighty swell -- quite tidy with his new haircut," the other barber chuckled.

“So, do I. He’s a little old to be an acolyte at church, but he would look sweet in a lacy frock, marching into church with a candle, don’t you think?" I asked.

“I’m sure if you have a word with the priest, it can be managed," said Vince.

The barber dumped a generous amount of talcum powder into the duster and whisked it about Cullen’s startled face. The lad coughed amid the huge white puff of powder that enveloped his head.

Vince gave his whole face and ears a thorough whisking with the soft brush and Cullen giggled a bit.

“Such a good lad. There’s a big jar of suckers for you to choose from over there on the counter," the barber said as he unfastened the large metal clip.

The large white cape was lifted away with great care. The pile of cut blond hair on the floor grew in size.

Cullen was eager to get out of the chair.

He shuddered at the sight of all his hair on the floor.

“Get a sucker like the barber said," I said in a tone that was just loud enough for the barbers to hear.

Cullen complied.

“You did a very good job, Vince. I hardly recognize him!" I commented with a tone of admiration.

To my surprise, Cullen said, “Thank you, sir," to the barber!

The haircut was already beginning to work its magic on the once sullen Cullen.

“You’re quite welcome," Vince said. “And now for you, Dean Perk. Hop up into the chair. Your hair is getting quite long, especially on top."

The barber reached for the thinning shears. He was eager to start whacking at my plush mane.

“Oh, I’m so busy this afternoon with all the new students arriving," I stammered.

“Nonsense, this won’t take but a few minutes," Vince continued.

I looked at my full business-cut in the mirror. So thick and lustrous. Every strand in place. It was a bit overgrown on the sides, brushing over the tops of the ears, and the quiff was very bulky. I did need a bit more than a trim….

“I will come back on Saturday," I said.

“We are open late this evening, if you change your mind," Vince insisted.

He was itching to shear me down, just like he’d shorn Cullen, I felt. My heart beat quickly. One scalping was enough for today!

In the car, on the way back to the college, Cullen examined his haircut in the visor’s mirror. He gently touched the hardened strands that were plastered down across the top of his head and grinned slightly. Then he fingered his big ears.

“So, will grandfather get a good report?" he asked.

“Yes, indeed!" I exclaimed. “How do you like your haircut?"

“It’s….awful," Cullen blurted out, but quickly caught himself and added, “….awfully nice!"

I turned and smiled at him. My little project was progressing more quickly than I had anticipated.

As Cullen got out of the car, I reminded him about Sunday.

“Yes, sir. I will be out in front of my dorm, Jefferson Hall, at 9:45 sharp, waiting. In a suit and tie!" he said cheerfully.

I headed back to my office, not anticipating the surprise that awaited me.

Of all things, Jed was sitting in MY chair with his feet up on MY desk!!

“What is the meaning of this?!" I demanded sharply. “Get out of my chair!"

Jed held up the letter from Dr. Chelton Harper and grinned.

“I read this, and was surprised that…." Jed began.

“How dare you read my correspondence?!" I demanded.

Jed began reading the letter out loud, “My grandson should be afforded ample leeway. He’s not accustomed to a tight rein, and I would like him to flourish in the open atmosphere of the college."

I stammered, “So, I tweaked the message a bit with Cullen!"

“I am going to call that boy in here right now and show him this!" Jed threatened. “I saw him get out of the car. You had him shorn mercilessly at the barber shop!"

“Please don’t," I begged my assistant. “He’ll tell his grandfather. I could lose my job!"

Jed enjoyed watching my agony.

“You should have thought of that before you went on your little power trip," Jed replied. “Did you enjoy watching him get scalped?"

“Do you want me to grovel?" I implored.

“No, I want you to return to the barber shop right now and get exactly the same haircut that Cullen got," Jed smirked.

“What?!" I gasped. “Oh, Jed, please!"

“You have half an hour before I call Dr. Chelton Harper and inform him what’s happened…..unless…." Jed held up his fingers as if they were a pair of scissors snipping off my hair.

“I’m on my way! I’ve been needing a proper haircut time for some time now," I said quickly.

Driving back to the barber shop, I couldn’t stop running my fingers through my soft, shimmering hair and looking into the rearview mirror. I would be getting a big dose of my own medicine! At last!

My heart beat quickly. I realized it was more excitement than nerves!

I almost leapt out of the car and bounded to the barber shop door. I flung it open and the chimes rang loudly, as if we were on an exhilarating sleigh ride.

“I’m back!" I announced, rushing in. "Why put this off? I'm needing a good shearing!"

“Chair is waiting for you," grinned Vince as he patted the deep olive green leather upholstery.

He had a very satisfied look on his face as he eyed me nervously removing my suitcoat.

“So, today, it won’t be the usual trim," Vince said excitedly as I climbed up the foot rest.

He smiled broadly as he cast the big white cape and pulled it firmly shut. His hands smoothed down my thick silken locks. My hair was in the bulls eye of his radar screen.

“That haircut you gave Cullen," I said.

Vince started combing the product out of my quiff and letting my massive forelock dangle down over my eyes.

I heard him priming the shears.

“I want my hair cut short, just like you cut his," I said with a firm command.

“You won’t be swirling this thick lock up into a big quiff each morning once it's been taken care of," he said as he brought his shears up.

SNIP, SNIP, SNIP!

It was OFF! Incredibly short and awfully angled.

I grinned like a Cheshire cat and then looked down into my lap. My pampered forelock was history. I felt hard, I felt excited.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for some time now," Vince said as he trimmed off another half inch for a really short fringe.

Then he added, “You know what I’ve been wanting to give you, for ages? A flattop! You have perfect hair for one and it would suit for face shape nicely. Carving out a big landing strip on top. What do you say? Should I go for it?"

OMG �" a flattop! But, I remembered Jed and his instruction.

“Not today, but some time! I promise. A flattop would give me a real air of authority as I ordered the college boys around," I replied. “Today I want those severe whitewalls and my hair slicked to the side with pomade.

Vince whacked away with the thinning shears for what seemed like forever. My forelock was reduced to mere wisps.

“Got it. Like the boy’s!" he summarized, reaching for the clippers.

The machine whirled to life, and I bowed my head low, waiting for it to start chewing off my hair right at the scalp.

Vince took it tight up the back, almost to the crown.

“I’m going to lather shave this noggin to give you a real clean, finished look, if you have the time," he said.

I gripped the arms of the barber chair under the cape to steady myself.

The clippers cleared the side of my head.

The other barber noted, “Your ears don’t stick out like that poor kid’s!"

“He needs to accept the way God made him and stop hiding those big flaps," I chimed in.

“Yes, you have nicely shaped ears, Dean Perk," Vince noted. "The skinned sides will show them off nicely."

He kept clearing away the hair from my head. Shorter and shorter and shorter he cut it until there was very little left on top.

“Just enough to comb to the side, I see," I said, with a feeble smile.

Vince wrapped a moist, warm towel around my head.

“I'm gonna soften this virgin scalp up and get it ready for the razor," he twinkled.

“So the flattop you have in mind for me….a landing strip. Shaved sides and back too?" I asked.

“You need a shoe!" the other barber opined. “A shoe makes a man look tough. Had a professional man, like yourself, in my chair the other week. Walked in here with a fairly long business cut and walked out sporting an aggressively short shoe!"

“Tipped you well, if I remember correctly," added Vince.

Then he worked some clean-smelling lather into my scalp and very carefully began scraping my sides and back clean with a straight edge razor.

I felt so relaxed. I would show Jed! I would embrace my new look, like it was the best thing that ever happened to me.

Vince caressed my shaven scalp with another warm, moist towel.

“Almost finished up here, Dean Perk," he murmured, surveying his handiwork. “I never thought I’d see the day you'd have your hair cut so short."

“Me neither. But that haircut you gave Cullen was a real winner. The lad likes it too," I noted.

Then came a splash of witch hazel that made me yelp, followed by billows of talcum powder and some vigorous duster action. The final step was a dollop of pomade followed by my short hair getting slicked into place.

“I look like a new man! Fresh and vigorous, ready for a new school year!" I announced as the cape came off. "Thank you very much, Vince. You did a great job on both of us this afternoon."

I touched the brittle stands and then the shaved back. Both new sensations.

Then, I stood, feeling quite masculine and virile. My thoughts turned to how I would pay Jed back as I handed Vince $20 and told him to keep the change.

“If one of my employees comes in this week, fellows, give him that shoe you were telling me about. I’d like to see just how short it’s cut. His name is Jed and he's been looking rather sloppy of late."

I whistled as I left the shop, feeling my shaved back….so smooth, so sensitive, so manly!

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