Dangerous confession. by switch61

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Excuse my poor English, it's not my native language.
I grew up in the 1970s. My name is Kevin, I'm the only son of my parents. When I was a little boy, I went with my father to the old-fashioned Carlos barbershop. After starting school, I refused to go with my father to the barbershop because Mr. Carlos only did short haircuts for boys. The situation changed when I was 8 years old and Mr. Carlos retired. Then I started going with my mother to a modern complex for a short haircut. Since then, my hair has gradually grown, I was proud of it.
When I was 13, a new boy came to our class, his name was Louis, who had very short hair. Louis also had a brother who was a year older, whose name was Ross. The surprise was when the next Monday both boys came to school with their new short haircuts. I started to be attracted to their new short haircuts. I couldn't help but look at their heads. It was the contrast of short black hair and white skin. I have to admit that their haircuts excited me a lot, much more than the other boys who wore short hair.
I became friends with Louis very quickly, I found out that he lived not far from us. We started walking together not only to and from school. We also met in our free time.
Every new haircut Louis and Ross gave me was a new excitement. I started to be more interested in their hairstyles. Once when I was alone with Louis, I asked him what it was like when a barber cut him with a hair clipper? My modern barber only uses classic scissors to cut my hair. I admitted that I had short hair until I was 8 years old, but I don't remember what it felt like. All I know is that I hated Carlos Barbershop. That's when Louis told me to get a haircut with him and I'd know best what it felt like. Even though I wanted to try out what it was like to have short hair and what it was like to get it cut with an electric clipper, I was very afraid of how my friends and classmates from school would react. That's why I told Louis that I didn't know if my parents would approve of my short hair.
A few days had passed since our conversation with Louis. It was Friday and they were together at our house. Louis told my parents that his father wouldn't allow me to have hair as long as Kevin's and why they wouldn't let me get a haircut at Taylor Barbershop.
My father said that when I was little I was so afraid to go to the old-fashioned Carlos Barbershop, that I would always cry hysterically and refuse to go to the barbershop with my father. Father, however, acknowledged that I was now 13 years old and old enough for it. So that I could get a haircut at Taylor Barbershop. A visit to a classic barbershop would certainly not cause tears. Louis said that he and his brother were going to Taylor Barbershop on Saturday and I could go with them. He would ask my father if I could go with them. I suddenly got scared. I didn't expect such quick reactions about my haircut. I wanted to protest, but I couldn't get a single intelligible word out of my throat. My father asked Louis if we had a phone at home, that he would ask my father if he would take me and his sons to Taylor Barbershop.
Louis dialed the number and after a while said: Hi dad, I'm at my classmate Kevin's and his father wants to ask you something. Then he handed the phone to my father. Hello, my father started the conversation. Your son told me that tomorrow you are going to have your sons get a haircut at Taylor Barbershop and I would like to ask you if you would take my son Kevin too. Then the father was silent for a while and listened to what Louis' father was telling him. When he started talking again, he said. Yes, Kevin has long hair, but it needs to be cut. Yes, just like Louis and Ross will be cut. After a short pause, he said. Thank you and Kevin will be at your place tomorrow morning at 9:00. Be as demanding and strict with him as you would be with your son. My fate was sealed.
I looked at Louis' head and realized that his hair was still short. He only had about 7 millimeters of hair on the back of his head and there was no hair longer than 25 millimeters on the top of his head.
I couldn't sleep at night and I thought about what would await me the next morning. Among the boys who go to classic old-fashioned barbershops, they say that Mr. Taylor is a strict, feared barber, not at all popular with the boys. The boys who had their hair cut by him said that Mr. Taylor liked it when the boys' hair was on the ground and not on their heads.
Since morning I had listened to my father to come to Louis on time and to behave properly in the barbershop and I did not forget to thank not only the barber but also Louis' father.
I arrived 10 minutes before 9 o'clock. The boys were already ready. Louis' father said that all 3 of us should get in the car. After a 15-minute drive we reached a narrow street where there were low old houses with small shops. Then we stopped at a house, above the door was written: Taylor's Barbershop.
Upon arriving at Taylor's barbershop, the smell of cigarette smoke mixed with the smell of barbershop hair products hit my nose. There was a similar smell at Carlos's barbershop once. The barber stopped cutting an older man's hair and looked at me sternly over his glasses. Then he said: what kind of girl is that? To which Louis' father said that I was Kevin, his son's classmate, and my father wanted me to be cut like a decent boy. The barber was a slim man with a very short haircut and glasses in a white coat. He had a comb tucked into his breast pocket. In front of the red leather barber chair, on the wall was a large mirror, at the bottom of the mirror was a long work table on which the barber kept his hair clippers and other cutting tools. Various bottles and jars of hair products. The barbershop had only one red leather chair, and about 10 wooden waiting chairs along the wall. On the walls hung 3 yellowed pictures of boys with short haircuts and several pictures of old men. Two old men sat on the waiting chairs in front of us. When they were also getting their haircuts, a boy a year younger than them, Ronald, from school, whom I had made fun of in the past for his very short haircut, came to the barbershop with his father.
The barber called another one and again looked sternly over his glasses at me and said: Come on, kid, I can't look at that hay on your head and pointed at me. I stood up and walked unsteadily, my legs shaking, to the barber's chair. The barber told me to button the top button of my shirt and then wrapped me in a white and black striped sheet. He combed my hair. He took an electric clipper from the hook and dripped oil on the teeth of the cutting part. He tilted my head forward sharply, his chin touching my chest. He pulled back the hair on my neck and placed the clippers on my neck. I felt the cold metal. The shears made a loud noise, as if the harvest had begun in the field. I felt a slight tingling sensation on my head, it was a pleasant and exciting feeling. The barber threw the first 20 centimeters of hair on the sheet in front of me. I feel the cold metal on my neck again and the scissors rise up the back of my head, my other long hair piled up on the sheet and tears began to well up in my eyes. I felt sorry for my long dark brown hair. The door opened and I felt the cold air on the cut back of my head. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the slight tingling sensation on my head from the shears. The barber tilted my head to the right side until my ear gently touched my shoulder. A moment later, my head was tilted to the other side and the barber was cutting the side of my head. When the barber turned off the scissors, I opened my eyes. My head was smaller, I had relatively large ears on the sides of my head, I only had about 6 millimeters of hair on both sides of my head. I still had long hair on the top of my head, covering my eyes, and my bangs reached the tip of my nose. The barber took a comb out of his breast pocket and used it to remove the hair above my forehead. The electric scissors turned on again and the barber ran them over the teeth of the comb. The cut hair fell onto the sheet in my lap. In the mirror, I saw Ronald smiling and happy that I would also have short hair.
The barber continued cutting and later also styling the hair on the top of my head. I had about 20 millimeters of hair left there. He combed my hair and cut my bangs high above my eyebrows. Almost my entire forehead was visible.
The barber took a pair of very fine-toothed scissors, dripped a drop of oil on them, tilted my head forward again and cut the very short hair on the back of my head. Then he started cutting the hair on the right side. First the sideburns, then he bent the ear and made a 5-centimeter arc around the ear. He did the same on the other side of my head. I saw white skin with very little stubble. When the barber finished cutting, he made a white foam in a small container with a brush and applied it to both sides of my head and the back of my head. He took a razor, which he sharpened on a leather belt hanging on the left side of the leather chair. He started scraping off the foam with the razor, I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feeling. I felt a slight chill on my back. I opened my eyes when the barber wiped the remains of the white foam on a towel. He applied a greasy cream to the remaining hair and combed it. He applied a smelly disinfectant to the shaved part of his head.
In the mirror I saw a boy with a small head, relatively large ears and a shining white skin high above the ears. I got up from the barber's chair and thanked Mr. Taylor, as my father had told me to do that morning.
Louis and I switched chairs. He in the barber's chair and I in the vacant seat of the waiting chair. Ronald sat next to me. He leaned over and said, "Welcome to the shearing club." I realized that it would be a shock to the boys when they saw me on Monday and then a lot of humiliation for this haircut. I nervously started to search for my hair and rub the shaved part of the back of my head. I looked at Louis' head, he already had white foam on his head, which the barber scraped off. Before he made way for his brother Ross, I noticed his about 17 to 18 centimeters of shaved white skin from the collar of his shirt. When Ross was cut with the exact same head shave, I was sure that I was the same.
I enjoyed my haircut in the barber's chair. I fixed them firmly in my head and now I will work on my long hair again. Maybe I will go to a modern barbershop in 9 to 10 months.
When we got out of the car, I thanked Louis' father for taking me and the boys to Taylor's barbershop. By doing so, I fulfilled all of my father's requirements.

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After arriving home, my father was delighted with my haircut. He said, Kevin didn't have such an amazing haircut even at Carlos's barbershop.
Then he ordered me to call Louis. Tell him I want to talk to his father. Thank you very much, my father said, and continued: thank you for making my son a real boy after all these years. I didn't like his girlish long hair. For a moment, my father was silent, and then he said: will it really not be a problem for you if Kevin comes to Taylor's Barbershop with you regularly? I'm very glad that you always have him cut like your sons. So every other Saturday at 9:00 at the latest, Kevin will be at your house so that you can take him to Taylor's Barbershop for a haircut.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

On Monday at school, everyone who knew me even a little bit started laughing at my
really big hair transformation. The real ridicule was much bigger
than I imagined. I met Roland at school, he had the same short
hair and shaved almost the entire nape of his neck with big white arches like me or Louis
or Ross. But Roland also laughed at me, saying how it felt to be a sheep being shorn. He asked when we would meet at Taylor's barbershop, because he goes there every 6 weeks.
I angrily replied that probably never. I knew, but that I would get
cut at Taylor's barbershop every 2 weeks.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I thought my father would forget, but on Saturday in 2 weeks he woke me up so that I wouldn't forget to go to Taylor's barbershop with the boys. In the barbershop, we gradually
took turns to go to the barber's chair first. The first time I got a haircut, the second time it was Louis, and the third time Ross was the first to sit in the barber's chair.
Our hair grew about 6 millimeters and we got the same short haircut again
with smooth almost completely shaved nape and arches around the ears. Most of the children
didn't even notice that we were at Taylor's barbershop again. But Roland, when he met Loui or
Ross, quickly looked for me to see if I had a haircut too, so he could
laugh at me. He didn't go to Taylor's barbershop until his hair had grown 2 centimeters.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The last Saturday before the holidays and Loui and Ross and I were sitting at Taylor's
barbershop. Today it turned out that I would be the first to sit in the barber's chair. When the barber
wrapped me in a sheet, Louis asked his father: Shall we give the children a summer haircut? Father
answered, yes, I would be happy to.
I leaned my head forward, as I was used to, so that Mr. Taylor could cut my 6-millimeter hair on the back of my head. But the barber grabbed my bangs and told me to tilt my head back as far as I could. I felt the cold metal of the clipper's teeth on my forehead. A slight tingling sensation on the top of my head. My throat tightened and my stomach sagged. The barber passed over the top of my head several times, and when I had a chance to look in the mirror, I saw about 0.2 millimeters of stubble on the top of my head. I rubbed the soft stubble with my palms, it pleasantly and excitingly irritated my palms. In a few minutes, I had such short stubble all over my head. While I was waiting for Louis and Ross to get my haircut, Roland came into the barbershop with his father. When he saw me without hair, he burst out laughing. But that proved fatal for him. His father said that if he was happy with his bald head, then his haircut would be the same. Then Louis asked his father when he would take his sons for a haircut. He replied, as always, in 2 weeks.

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