Paintball Gear (Part 1) by CleanCutTieGuy

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Foreword: John’s story got long, so I will be releasing it in several parts. Enjoy.


The summer sun was already beating down on New England, promising a scorcher of a day. John, clad in his camouflage pants, black combat boots, and olive green t-shirt, was en route to an outdoor paintball tournament. He had a bit of extra time before his team rendezvoused, and the heat was already making him reconsider his slightly shaggy hair. As he drove, he spotted "Mike's Barbershop," a tiny, one-man shop he’d often passed but never entered. On a whim, he pulled over.

The bell above the door jingled, and an older barber, his face lined with years of cuts and conversation, looked up from a well-worn newspaper. "Come on in, son," he said, gesturing to the single worn leather chair.

John settled in, and the barber, Mike, draped the cape around him. "What'll it be today, young man? A regular haircut?"

John, thinking "regular" just meant a standard, slightly shorter version of his usual style, nodded. "Yes sir. A regular sounds good."

Mike quickly combed through John's hair, then, without a word, faced him away from the mirror. John heard the familiar buzz of clippers as Mike went to work on the back and sides. It felt fast, and surprisingly short. Then came the snip-snip of scissors on top, and that felt even shorter. Much shorter than he'd anticipated for a "regular" cut.

Finally, as Mike spun the chair around he said, "This should pass inspection."

John stared at his reflection, dumbfounded. His hair was gone. In its place was more of a military-grade high and tight, the sides and back faded almost to the skin, and the top cut down to a precise, inch and a half. It was a stark, no-nonsense cut, utterly unlike anything he'd ever sported.

"Whoa," John blurted, touching his scalp. "Why so short? I just asked for a regular cut."

"That's a 'regular cut' for you military guys," Mike said, his brow still furrowed. "I just assumed you were military, or getting ready for basic training."

John chuckled, a little nervously. "No, no. I'm on my way to a paintball tournament. This is my field gear for that. I’m not in the military."

Mike’s eyes widened, and a wave of apology washed over his face. "Oh, I am so sorry! My mistake entirely! I truly thought you were one of our servicemen. My apologies." He quickly unclasped the cape. "I can’t put the hair back, but definitely no charge for this one. My apologies."

John stood up, shaking his head. He looked at his reflection again. The severe cut highlighted his strong jawline and, surprisingly, made his eyes seem more intense. It was undeniably sharp, even if it was completely unexpected. He ran a hand over the bristly top. "You know what, Mike?" John said, a grin slowly spreading across his face. "It's a mistake, but honestly… it’s just hair and it will grow back. "

Mike, somewhat relieved, "I will say shorter hair really suits you. You look like you mean business, whether that business is combat or paintball."

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