New housing by strictsir

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Excuse my poor English, it is not my native language.

I grew up in a time without computers and mobile phones, but it was a very nice childhood. Yes, it was in the last century. I was born in 1960. Like most boys in that time, I had quite long hair, covering my ears, bangs covering my eyes and the hair on the back of my neck covering my shirt collar. When I was 13, we moved to a new city, to an older house.

When we finished moving all the things from the car on Friday, the unpacking and putting things in the cabinets began. My father and I were in the yard when a man with 2 boys walked past our house. I was convinced they were coming back from the barber's because about 2 centimeters above their ears they had white, clean-shaven skin and the lower half of their necks were also clean-shaven, on the top of their heads they had about 4 centimeters of hair combed to the right side.
Dad introduced himself, saying that we were new to this part of town and that I was his son Dario. Then the neighbor introduced himself and said that his older son Sebastian was 14 years old and his younger son Liam was 11 years old.
My dad said. Dario is going to a new school on Monday and will need a haircut. Could you recommend a good barber in the area? I got a shiver down my spine when I heard the word barber. The neighbor recommended Mr. Nicholas' Barber Shop. You will be there in 5 minutes on foot. At the next intersection, turn left, go straight and on the right side there is a house and there is Nicholas Barber Shop written in big letters. My father thanked me for the information and said that in the morning after breakfast he would take me to this barbershop for a haircut. Sebastian and laughed quietly. I was scared and I slept badly at night thinking, Mr. Nicholas is an old-fashioned barber.
After breakfast, my father called me and said: Dario, we are going to find Nicholas's barbershop. As we were going, I saw Sebastian riding his bike. He saw us enter Mr. Nicholas's Barbershop. My fears came true. It was an old-fashioned barbershop with one barber chair and wooden waiting chairs. The barber was an old man of about 60 years old in a white coat. The barbershop was full of old men waiting and there was also a boy of about 8 years old. My father asked the barber how long it would take for his son Dario to get a haircut. The barber looked at the waiting chairs and said that it would take more than an hour. I thought we would leave the barbershop because there was still a lot of work to do at home. But the father asked the barber again: We have just moved in, can I leave my son here for a haircut? The barber replied, yes, but how should he be cut? So that he has a decent boy's haircut. On Monday he goes to a new school for the first time. For example, like this boy and pointed to an 8-year-old boy sitting on the first waiting chair from the door. The boy had short hair, about 13 millimeters of hair on the top of his head and about 6 millimeters on the sides and back of his head. When I saw it, my eyes went dark. I had never had such short hair. The boy must have been waiting for the gentleman who was now being cut by Mr. Nicholas.
I sat nervously on the hard wooden chair. My stomach was tight, I was swinging one leg. I was afraid of the moment when the barber would call me to his chair. I didn't pay any attention to the old guys getting their hair cut. I took the magazine from the table and tried to read it, but my thoughts were elsewhere. Men who had had their hair cut were leaving the barbershop and new ones were coming in.
After about half an hour I looked at the open door to the barbershop. I saw a boy coming out who had just left the barbershop. The sun shone on his short blond hair. From a distance it looked like he didn't even have it on his head. A man of about 35 with a very short haircut was walking right behind him.
I didn't have a good feeling about Mr. Nicholas's barbershop, I was nervously waiting for my fate in Mr. Nicholas's barbershop. I didn't want short hair. I think it would be enough if the barber cut 1-2 centimeters off my hair.
Sebastian entered the barbershop from the neighborhood. The barber said to him, you were here yesterday. The boy replied that he did, but that he had brought money for his new neighbor Dario because his father would not be able to come in time to pay for his haircut. I took the money from Sebastian and he said with a smile that he would stay with me and then we would go home together. Out of politeness, I told him, well, if you think so. But in reality, I was not happy that he would see my rather long hair being cut. Sebastian quietly told me that Mr. Nicholas requires children to shake his hand after the haircut and thank him warmly for the haircut.
When the barber called to me: Come here, boy, it's your turn and patted his barber's chair. I stood up and walked over to the barber with shaking legs. He wrapped me in a striped sheet, buttoning it tightly around my neck. I wanted to ask the barber not to cut me too much. The barber said that he had been instructed by my father to cut me like a child who had already left the barbershop.
I looked in the mirror and saw Sebastian watching the barber carefully, smiling. The barber pulled out a large electric hair clipper from the drawer, oil dripping onto the metal teeth. He tilted my head back, all I could see was the ceiling of the room. He lifted my bangs, I could feel the cold metal of the electric hair clipper blades on my forehead. The barber turned them on, they were very noisy, my head was pounding and I felt like the blades of the hair clipper blades were close to my skin. The barber passed over the top of my head a few times and then tilted my head to the left and continued cutting the hair on the right side. When he was done, he cut the hair on the left side as well. When he tilted my head forward, he placed the metal part of the blade on my neck, just above the collar of my shirt. Now I could see my six-inch-long, trimmed hair on the sheet and on the floor. I couldn't imagine what my head looked like. Tears welled up in my eyes. Finally, the barber turned off the electric scissors and I had the opportunity to see in the mirror a frightened boy with a small head and relatively large ears. I had only about 6 millimeters of hair on my entire head. In the mirror I saw Sebastian enjoying my scalping.
The barber untied my sheet and shook out the cut hair. I wanted to get up, but he stopped me, saying we weren't finished yet. He wrapped me in the sheet again. He took another electric hunting scissors, cleaned them and dripped oil on them. He tilted my head to the left, placed the scissors on my right sideburns and started cutting short hair, only 6 millimeters long. He bent my ear and continued cutting. When he finished cutting on the right side of my head, for a very short time I had the opportunity to see the cut right side of my head. Only a very small stubble was left there. The barber also cut the left side and finally the back of my head. When the electric clippers turned off, he used a brush to remove the trimmed stubble from the sheet, moistened my head, made a white lather, and applied it to the sides and back of my head. He carefully scraped off the lather, wiping the remaining lather into a towel. He applied cologne to the shaved part of my head for disinfection. It stung quite a bit. He applied talcum powder to the small 6-millimeter stubble. The hair stood up like hedgehog spines. When he released me from under the sheet, he took out a hand mirror and showed me the entire back of my head, cleanly shaved, and both sides of my head, cleanly shaved. I said that the boy had longer hair. The barber thought he was waiting for a haircut, but we both had the same haircuts. I jumped down from the barber's chair, the barber was already waiting for me to shake his hand. I said: Thank you, Mr. Nicholas, for the haircut you gave me. Before I paid, the barber took a piece of paper and wrote something on it. He folded the paper and told me to give it to my father at home. Sebastian and I left Nicholas's barbershop.
I looked for my hair all the way home. Sebastian laughed heartily at my haircut. You look like a soldier, he laughed. On the way, I unwrapped a note from Mr. Nicholas. It said: Don't let your child grow such long hair again. To maintain a perfect appearance, I suggest that your child visit me every 1-2 weeks, but not longer than 3-4 weeks.
When we got home, my parents were surprised by my new haircut, but they both concluded that it was a perfect haircut and much better than long hair. Sebastian didn't forget to say that Mr. Nicholas was sending a message to my parents. I got angry with him because I didn't want to show it to my parents. Father asked Sebastian how often they went to the barber, and he replied that about every 3 weeks.
Father Sebastian also liked my new haircut very much. He said that this is how boys our age should have their hair cut. He was angry that his sons cried every time they had to go to Mr. Nicholas's barbershop. My father even showed him a note from the barber.
The kids at school had a completely different opinion about my haircut. One of the boys said: Another one who goes to Nicholas's barbershop and started laughing. There were more boys at school, older than me, who had their entire backs and sides shaved, but also some who had haircuts like Sebastian from Mr. Nicholas. But about 3/4 of the boys had long hair, like I used to have.

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