Determination (2/2) by Gottlieb

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Before I could realize the consequences, another drastic haircut began. The scissors shortened my hair above my face by a third and then it came. The hated bakelite clipper, armed with an attachment, came to life with its buzzing sound. It began its journey again on the sides around my ears, where it removed all the hair that had grown a little since the last haircut, quite high and without resistance. Its next action was focused on my neck, where more and more hair clippings fell out. They were no longer as long as during my last haircut. However, I felt that the clipper was rising a little higher than it had finished its destructive journey the last time. Looking in the mirror, I watched the unpleasant barber enjoying the brutal haircut of my hair. She held my head with one hand and tilted it so that not a single hair that was not supposed to stay there remained on it. The electric clipper in her other hand was running steadily and uncompromisingly along the back of my head and above my ears, after changing the attachments again and again... I realized that the dream mullet was moving further and further away from my head, that I wouldn't be able to think about it for a long time.

Is this what I wanted? The lump in my crotch showed that this was probably what was supposed to happen to me, that I had subconsciously wished for it. I already thought that my second brutal haircut was over, but the razor was still waiting for me. The razor and its smooth shaving of the stray tiny hair bristles near my ears and high on the back of my head. After cleaning, the strict barber showed me her work and I had to admit that my hair was even shorter than last time. Shorter, but above all, picked out even higher than during my first haircut. I felt like an army recruit again, but I got exactly what I had asked for.

Dazed, I got up from my chair and went to pay for the second radical haircut. I went to pay for something I had never wanted in the first place, something I had never imagined. I ran my hand over the high-cut sections and the remaining, very short hair. I had a big lump in my crotch again, caused by excitement and humiliation. I knew that at home I would have to repeatedly relieve myself of the tension that another short haircut was causing me. I didn’t want to cry anymore. The strict barber reminded me again when I was paying to come back soon. This time, however, to my surprise, I told her that I would come and that I would definitely come soon.

After this second very short haircut, the looks of people outside, or the reactions at work and at home, didn’t bother me much anymore. I enjoyed it. My hair was cut drastically short. High on the sides and back of the neck shaved to the skin, but this time it was different. It was different because this time I wanted it this way myself.

Did you like these two true stories? Write me your reactions here, or at haircut@centrum.cz.
Thank you.

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