Be Careful What You Ask For by ClipperAddict

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There is a barbershop close to my office that until recently I didn't pay much attention to. The owner is an older gentleman, and most of the clientele are older. Hardly any real short cuts; mostly business men cuts and trims. About 3 months ago however, the owner brought in another barber, and started taking some time off. The new guy is short and muscular, in his mid forties with MPB, a clipper shaved head and a goatee. Since his arrival, the clientele has definitely been getting younger, and the styles significantly shorter.

From my office window, I can see the entrance to the shop and guys going in and coming out. Over the past few weeks there have been some major transformations. Long hairs and business man cuts transformed to tight fades, ivy leagues, crew cuts with bumpers, buzzes and flat tops. If only I could see the action, but alas I have to be content enjoying the anticipation as a long hair enters then moments later (on average 15 - 20 minutes) reappears rubbing a freshly shorn head.

One day after running an errand at lunch, I was driving back to the office, past the shop of course, when out of the barbershop comes a guy in his mid-twenties rubbing the back of what appeared to be a freshly cut fade with a # 4 crew and a bumper.

In his left hand he was holding a couple of dollar bills which he was stuffing into his pocket. I quickly glanced behind him into the shop to see only the new barber in an empty shop about to tuck into a sub of some kind for lunch.

This is it, I think to myself, enough is enough, my regular styled business man cut has to go, no more Supercuts for me. I turned the corner, quickly parked the car, and started to sprint back the two blocks back to the shop. Thankfully no-one had beaten me to the chair, and the new barber put his half-eaten sub down and signaled me to take a seat.

"So what's it going to be today?" asks the barber who has introduced himself as Ken, "Tidy it up ? Tapered in the back?"

"No, it's time for a change, something radical" I say boldly, "I want the same as the last guy. Tight at the back and sides, short on the top, a little longer towards the front."

"That's pretty radical, are your sure ?" Ken asks as he combs through my almost six inches of hair.

"Yes I'm sure, it looked so good on him, I have to try it, unless you think it would look stupid on me."

"Not at all, that's one of my favorite haircuts, and it's getting to be real popular. I'll have you looking like a new man in no time." With that he turned the chair away from the mirror and reached for a red set of clippers.

The clippers were still a little warm from the previous cut. He held my head quite firmly, and placed the them below my right sideburn. Steadily he pushed them up past my temple. With a quick flick, a mound of dark brown hair fell on to the white cape. I didn't realize my hair had been that long. All the time I was wondering what number of blade was being used, as Ken was pressing quite hard, and it felt really short, but then again I wasn't used to the feel of clippers.

A second, third and fourth pass was made with the clippers on the right side. The hair was really mounting up on the cape, and I was enjoying every moment, only wishing I could see the action in the mirror. By now Ken had reached the middle of the back. "This is the moment of no return" he said pausing for a moment to allow me to say stop. There was silence, and he continued. The clippers raced up the back of my head over the crown, and then forward for a couple of inches.

This I had not been expecting, as the crew cut on the guy I had seen appeared noticeably longer on top than the back and sides, however I was enjoying the experience so much, it didn't really matter if it was going to be a little shorter.

Then it happened. A guy with the most amazing high and tight horseshoe flat came into the shop. "Back so soon? " Ken asked.

"I had to go to the ATM to get some more cash", the guy said, "I wanted to give you a bigger tip. This is an awesome haircut. I love it. A couple of guys have already stopped me in the street to ask me where I got it. I think you're going to be real busy. The guy handed over a $5 bill.

"Thanks," Ken replied, "I think you're right. In fact, you know Joey who delivered my sub was asking me about your haircut while you were using the restroom before you left, I only cut his hair yesterday, and he said he might stop back this afternoon. I think he's quite serious. I saw him rubbing the back of his head on his way out, and you were hardly gone when this gentleman appeared asking for the same cut. It's looking pretty good don't you think?"

It took a moment for me to register what had happened, as I did the blood rushed to head.

"No need to be bashful" said the guy standing in the doorway. "Wait till he shaves the back and sides, what a rush, and then the landing strip. It's amazing!" With that he tilted his head forward to reveal a shiny polished landing strip. Suddenly my heart was beating twice as fast as normal, as I tried to figure out what to do. It had taken me years to pluck up the courage to try a fade, and here I was halfway through a high and tight horseshoe flattop! How did this happen? What can I do? I can't stop now, so I decided to say nothing and let Ken carry on, after all that was one very cool haircut standing in front of me.

"How about letting me see what it looks like?" I blurted out kind of weakly.

"Certainly", said Ken as he pushed the chair round towards the mirror. "I usually turn the chair towards the window as most guys like to see what's happening outside, but you can watch the whole thing if you like." I nod gently, startled by the sight I saw in the mirror. The right side is completely bald, as I presume the back is also, and as I tilt my head forward I see a white strip on the top of my head.

The left side, the front, and a strip on the top right are still untouched. Ken starts up the clippers again and runs them up behind my left ear. I can see the hair being peeled from my head, and suddenly the combination of seeing and feeling is unbelievable. This certainly isn't what I came in for, but boy am I enjoying it.

After peeling off the whole left side, Ken switches from what I can see now were the edgers to regular clippers with what he tells me is a number 4 blade. The clippers are placed front and center and pushed all the way back to the landing strip. A quick couple of swipes either side reveals what I can only describe as a horseshoe shaped crew. He quickly applies some sort of gel, and brushes the remaining hair back briskly, till it all stands to attention.

He takes the clippers, this time with a 000 blade, and begins to carefully freehand sculpt the most perfect flattop you can imagine, blending the edges into the bald sides and landing strip. The front is not even a half-inch, but contrasted to the skin everywhere else it looks long. After several minutes of very precise strokes with the clippers, he is done. By this time it is clear he has noticed my excitement with all that has happened. He pauses, and says "OK, you want to touch it?". I nod and lift my hand out from under the cape, and practically pass out as I feel the fine sandpaper that has now replaced what used to be my hair. "You want to leave it at that or make it smooth?" Ken asks as he places my hand on the top of his naturally smooth, bald head.

"What the heck, let's go for it!" I utter, totally amazed at myself. No sooner had the words left my mouth than the back, sides and landing strip are being smothered in warm shaving cream. The straight razor starts at the front of the landing strip slowly and deliberately drawn through the foam leaving in its path a smooth and shiny trail. Have I died and gone to heaven I think as my eyes naturally shut savoring every moment. All too soon the last strip of shaving cream is stripped from my head to reveal this tiny horseshoe ring of dark brown hair perfectly flat.

The cape is whisked away, tons of dark brown hair falls on the floor as I step from the chair towards the mirror. I cannot believe it is me. I lift my hand to the back of my head and gently stroke upward over the crown to the landing strip. The sensation of skin on skin takes my breath away.

"That'll be $10" Ken says standing by the cash drawer as I give him $20 and gesture to keep the change. "Thanks! You really wanted a fade the same as Joey, didn't you?" he said as he pushed the drawer shut.

"You knew?" I stuttered in disbelief, staring at him with my eyes as wide as they would open.

"Not till I saw your face turn bright red when the other guy returned with the tip. You know this haircut IS something radical, tight at the back and sides, short on the top, a little longer towards the front. I hope you like it OK. It looks great on you, but in future you should be more careful about what you ask for. It might not always turn out so good."

As I turn to leave who steps into the shop but Joey the sub guy. He sits in the chair, as Kenny looks at him in the mirror and wraps the cape around him and asks "What will it be?"

Joey looks over at me, then back at Kenny and says, "The same as the last guy." At which point Ken and I dissolve into fits of laughter.

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