Mr. DeFrancos dilemma by P.J.

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Mr. DeFranco's dilemma

Old Mr. Jeffries was just leaving. He’d been in early for his monthly trim. He wanted to beat the rush. Considering this was the first Saturday after school was out for summer.

I poured a quick cup of coffee while the first shaggy lad climbed into my chair. Bracing for one of the most exciting days of the year for me. I’m Joe DeFranco, owner of DeFranco's Barber Shop. I absolutely love it when school gets out for summer. All the little darlings coming in for their annual shearing’s. Moms and dads with the reluctant victim in tow. Sporting a handsome mop in need of the attention of my fast feed Osters. I love pealing all that gorgeous bulk off, giving them the ever classic #1 butch. That seems to be the proffered parental summer cut. I love it too. Quick, easy, allowing for maximum bulk removal. Even if they did leave teary eyed and upset. Mmnnn. It was gonna be a good day.
I saw Mike Murphy hold the door for Mr. Jeffries as he left the shop. Mike greeted Mr. Jeffries and engaged him in conversation. He still held the door open for who I was guessing was his son Rory. I realized in that moment that Mike hadn’t brought Rory in for a trim up last Christmas. This must be what Rory looks like with a full years growth of his amazing auburn locks. Oh, my what gorgeous overgrown thatch.

‘Good morning" I said cheerily. "Is that you Rory? Under all that thick shag? Have a seat son, I’ll be with you as soon as I take care of this shaggy lad." I gestured to the waiting area chairs.
The shaggy boy slowly approached the chair. Slumping into it.

"Now then son, this won’t take long" I said as I wrapped the cape around him. I quickly sterri stripped his neck and fastened the cap nice and tight.

I pulled a comb thru the thick shaggy locks. Straight down all around. Covering the top half of his face in plush blonde locks. "Now then, when your dad dropped you off, he said he wanted you to have a nice tight butch before he left, If I’m not mistaken, yes?" I crooned.

I loved this. The first brutal shearing of the day. There ws something erotic and arousing about it. Taking a shaggy boy down, against his will, clipper full after plush clipper full, all piling up in his lap. Shoulders slumped, resigned to his fate. He would look so handsome when he slunk out of the shop. The morning sun hitting his scalp, clearly visible for the first time in a year. His eyes darting back and forth, hoping against hope none of his buds are around to witness the carnage.

And now Rory was sitting waiting, witness to the shearing the lad would receive. He would be my next victim, um, I mean client. Oh, this was going to be a good day.

"Um, sir," the young lad murmured. "Could you maybe use a #2or even a #3 guard this time. My dad won’t know the difference, as long as its clipper short. Please, sir?"

"Ah, there, there" I said patting his shoulder. "We need to make sure your dad is happy now, don’t we. When he comes back to pick you up, I can’t lie to him when he comments on how nice the #1 butch always looks on you now, can I?"
I noticed I had Rory’s rapt attention. His eyes fixated on the poor lad’s lush mane.

"Now then, let’s not waste any time, shall we? Head down, chin to the chest, don’t move and everything will be just fine" I said, looking over at Rory and smiling as the fast feed Osters fired up.

I lifted the first thick flap of six-inch-long locks away from his nape, in the center of the back of his head. This was the moment, the first pass of the Osters, sealing his fate as a butch boy for the summer. My heart was pounding. I was so invigorated. The clippers bit into the thick shag on his nape. Slowly rising up the back of his head. Leaving nothing but blonde stubble in their wake. In the moment, I realized, with his light shade of blonde, He’d likely look bald. Hmm, maybe that was why he’d asked for a longer guard. Oh, well, no matter now. He was the first inductee into this year’s #1 butch club. I knew Rory was till watching transfixed as the transformation started. I wonder if Rory detected the slight up curve on the corners of my mouth as the hungry clippers made their way up to the crown. MMMN. I groaned as the first pad of thick bulk slide free tumbling from the clipper blades, first hitting his shoulder, then slowly sliding down, making its way into his lap.

Having sealed his fate, I started working my way across the back of his head. Mounds of plush bulk being removed with each pass of the hungry Osters. I detected a slight trembling in his shoulders. I thought I heard a sniffle or two. No doubt he was trying to be silent in his crying. Not wishing to embarrass himself in front of young Rory. It mattered not, young Rory was only minutes away from the same fate.

His lap began to fill with the plush heavy blonde locks. The short freshly sheared nubbins barely covering the back of his head where the plush locks lived until a few moments ago. I loved torturing the boys, first stripping the back, then the sides, leaving the removal of their pride and joy, the huge thick bang mop, until last. They were usually pretty well cried out by that point, resigned to their fate. Parental hatred was beginning to boil up. The realization that they would have a pitiful inch or so of grown out hair to start the next school year in the fall.

I moved to the sides, deftly stripping more bulk off. Exposing ears that hadn’t seen the sunlight in a good while. I paused momentarily to study him. Yes, he most certainly looked bald with the light shade of blonde. And all that nice pasty white scalp showing thru. Now for the best part. The bang mane. Six glorious inches of thick plush bulk, still completely covering his eyes. Just brushing the tip of his nose. Waiting patiently to be removed by the trusty Osters. This was the best part. I got to slowly reveal the shocked and dismayed expression as they realized I was stripping them bare for another summer.

I noticed Rory had a horrified look on his face. No doubt reliving all the past shearings’ in my chair as he watched yet another lush mane slowly being destroyed. He absent mindedly pawed at the heavy fringe to keep it out of his eyes. Soon that won’t be a problem I mused to myself.

I had to be careful and not betray the glee I felt as the Osters slid up under the thick fringe, making contact with his front hairline. I slid the clippers slowly back. I particularly enjoyed getting the first glimpse of a tear-stained eye, staring angrily up at me as the clippers stripped the last of his pride and joy off. Long thick locks slide past that eye, landing in the now huge pile in his lap.

The hair fall during these transformations was epic. I loved seeing the small pile in their lap grow and grow as clipper fulls of dense thatch were transferred from head to lap. Their sniffles and louder as each huge handful added to the pile.
I saw Rory’s face change, a flash of recognition perhaps. Maybe this was a school mate of his. His identity being revealed for the first time today as the last of his lush locks were slowly, deliberately being stripped away. Maybe it was simply shock at the final moments before his freshly scalped head was totally revealed.

Three more passes and the destruction was complete. Another butch boy was born. I always pause for a moment to appreciate how handsome I thought they looked. Cowed and submissive in the chair. Small freshly scalped head poking up thru the neck opening of the cape. No longer pleading and defiant. His fate had been sealed. This one was more fortunate than some of them, his ears didn’t stick out too much. I moved the clippers every which way all around his newly clipped head to make sure they hadn’t missed a single strand. And to confirm for the boy that yes, yes indeed, he’d been well and truly shorn for another summer.

I unclipped the #1 guard and quickly moved along the edges, cleaning them up, raising the hairline in back by a good inch. Fully exposing a good measure of pasty white scalp to advertise that he’d been newly shorn.

I gave him a quick brush down, then removed the cape with a flourish. "There you go now lad. Nice and handsome again. Come back in a month and we’ll keep this nice and tidy for you." I said as the cape was pulled away, causing the huge pile of cut locks to slide to the floor at his feet.

He glanced up and me and said "Um, no thanks, sir. I’m sure my dad will be alright with growing it back out again." As he finished speaking, he glanced in Rory’s direction. His facial expression changed to one of horror. He no doubt recognized Rory. Rory…who had been witness to his unwanted summer transformation. Rory…who was next in the chair.

Rory slowly nodded at him in recognition. Running his fingers thru his plush locks as he did so. Giving the lad a grim smile. Conveying without words that he felt his pain.

The newly born butch boy handed me some bills, mumbled a cold thank you, and slunk from the shop. No doubt getting complimented from Mr. Jeffries, and Rory’s dad, on how handsome he now looked, as he passed by them still standing outside the shop.

After putting the cash in the till, I smiled over at Rory. "Hop up in the chair son, you’re next."

Rory reluctantly approached the chair. He glanced back at the door. Clearly disappointed that his dad hadn’t yet entered the shop.

"I’m sure your dad will be in shortly Rory. Mr. Jeffries can be quite a talker. Hop on up here and we’ll get started removing all that shag. You’ll feel much better once we get that all off." I said admiring the thick mane. By the looks of it he’d just washed it. It was pretty much dry, but still damp in a couple of places.

As Rory settled in the chair I admired his long plush locks. His auburn color was always a treat for me. I noticed he’d already started getting some of those nice lighter highlights as they sparkled in the lights of the shop. He’d done a simple middle parting. Probably because there wasn’t much else he could do, given that it was pretty much nose length in front. He kept flicking his head from side to side so he could see. Or running his fingers thru it, pushing it straight up and back. The lush locks on the sides and back were nicely touching his shoulders. This was going to be another treat. I was already getting a bit excited at the thoughts of pushing the fast feed Osters slowly up the back. Handfuls of thick locks getting severed loose and sliding down onto his shoulders as he sat cowed and submissive, chin to the chest. Ah, I loved being in charge.

"Good morning, sir" Rory replied. "Today I’d like to just have you give me a small trim, sir. Just a couple of inches off the back, even up the sides, and can you feather or layer my bangs so they lay better when I brush them to the sides? I don’t want them cut shorter though." He asked politely.

I chuckled. "Ah, nice try Rory." I said, smirking at him as I sterri stripped his neck, then settled the cape around him, fastening it tightly. "You boys are always trying to get me go give you a trim instead of the nice short #1 butch that your parents require. Your dad has had me give you a #1 butch since you started kindergarten son. I still remember buzzing off that old bowl cut you had. And always how upset you were when you rubbed your freshly clipped head and felt only stubble."

"Just let me give you a good comb out and we can get started removing all this." I loved combing out their lush manes for the last time before firing up the dreaded Osters. You could see their anxiety level rising with each pull of the comb. Thick heavy bulk suddenly obscuring their vision for the last time. Their nervous sighs clearly heard in the quiet of the shop. (I’d often wished I’d started taking before and after pics. Sadly, there would be too much red tape these days getting permission though.)

I did pause for a second. He was very specific in his request. It wasn’t the usual "please sir, just use a #2 or #3 guard sir’. Hmm. He would look handsome with what he’d just suggested. I could go and ask his dad to step in to confirm his instructions. Ah, no, I said arguing with myself. His dad wouldn’t capitulate to letting to go as long as that. I rationalized. He was old school. Let the shearing begin, thought.

Rory gave a loud exhale. Causing his over long fringe to flutter. "No, really sir. My dad has been letting me grow it out this year. That’s why I wasn’t in for Christmas. I’m going to be a freshman in high school in the fall. I want a nice longer hair style to start high school with sir. No more #1 butch cuts for me, sir." Rory smiled tentatively.

"Ah, Rory, you teenage boys and your long hair." I responded. "they’re always trying to bargain for me to leave it just a little bit longer sir, please leave some fringe sir, maybe use a 3 or 4 guard, my dad won’t notice, please sir. They always wind up with a good solid #1 butch, though. Sometimes there are tears, sometimes there’s arguments or bargaining with parents. As you get a little older, usually you just settle down and accept that the #1 butch is the best look." I finished, picking up my fast feed Osters and clipping a 1 ½ guard on them. I’d start with the extra half guard just in case he was telling me the truth. Not that it would matter a whole lot.

"Sir, really" Rory said, getting a bit agitated now. "Just ask my dad, he’s right outside. I just want you to trim a couple of inches off the back, it is really is getting too long. Even up the sides, and feather my bangs so they lay nicely with a middle part. That’s all, sir. Please. I can go get my dad and he can confirm it for you, please."

There was a sense of urgency in his voice that I didn’t usually hear from him. I remembered him as one of the more subdued types. He usually sat sullen and non-communicative while I sheared off half a year’s growth. I was really looking forward to be able to strip off a whole year’s growth this time. It was so long and lush. I looked out at the front of the shop. His dad was still chatting with old Mr. Jeffries.

Now, now, Rory, there’s no need to disturb your dad. We both know what he wants here." I said, walking around behind the lad.

I’d finished combing him out. I paused to take in the lush thick locks, a full 6 inches hanging from his nape. Quite a handsome mane. More than ready for my heavy-handed clippers. It was always so exciting to slide the clippers up under the thick shag, sliding them up slowly, nape to crown, watching as the first thick lush clipper full of bulk fell away, first hitting their shoulders, then tumbling the rest of the way down into their lap. It never got old. I got to see the first strip of pasty white scalp covered in short nubbins. Barely able to tell what color it still was. It was such a rush. They would usually add to the excitement by letting out a huge gasp, then a shoulder slouching sigh as they realized I’d just sealed their fate, joining the butch club for another summer.

I put a hand firmly on top of Rory's head, pushing him to look down chin to the chest. I loved the cowed and submissive posture for this part. Rory wasn’t having any of it today though. He wiggled and squirmed so much I had to reposition my hand on his head. He wasn’t usually this obstreperous. I laid it to his being a young teenager now, and getting a bit rebellious. Ah, well, they usually all changed their tune by the time I’d finished clipping them down. They usually slunk out of the shop sullen and pouting. Rory would remember who’s boss soon enough.

I heard the jangle of the door chime as I lifted the flap of soft thick bulk on his nape to give the hungry Osters free access. Let the shearing begin!

"Sir! Please! Stop Sir! This is NOT what I asked you for sir!" Rory barked, as the clippers bit into the heavy thatch at his nape and began their slow ascent up the back of his head.

"Noooooo!’He wailed. Starting to sob.

We both realized in the same instant that his dad had entered the shop and was taking in the scene before him.

The chattering clippers were just nicely starting to make their way up towards Rory’s ‘clipital’ bone, as the boys all referred to the boney protrusion on the back of their heads. The first lush six inch long locks at the base of his nape had been freed and were starting their decent.

"Joe" Rory's dad barked. "Stop this instant! Put those clippers down! Now. I insist."

I was so shocked by his outburst that I just lowered the clippers, not finishing the first pass. Not even getting to the ‘clipital’ bone. What I had removed slid down to shoulders, then into his lap. Eliciting a howl from Rory. "OMG Dad!

He’s buzzing me! Make him stop!"

Surprised, I said "Mike, what’s wrong?" I’m just getting started on Rory. Giving him his usual #1 butch. What’s the problem?" I said, starting to make a second pass, this time all the way up the back. ( Rorys dads first name was Mike in case you didn’t catch that)

Mike quickly reached over and pushed my clippered hand away from Rory's head. I was quite surprised by Mikes abrupt gesture. I shut the clippers off.

Rory was sobbing, gently fingering the small handful of six-inch-long locks in his lap. "I am so screwed Dad!" was all he managed to mutter between sobs.

At this point a couple of teenage boys entered the shop, and just after them, an older lady with a youngish boy in tow. They all took seats in the waiting area close by. The teens acted as if they knew Rory.

"Joe" Mike barked. "What are you doing? Didn’t Rory tell you he just wanted a trim this year?" Turning to Rory and trying to calm him he said "Rory, why didn’t you tell Joe what you wanted?"

Rory was distraught at the point. "Dad, I did tell him! He didn’t believe me. He said I was just like all the other boys, always trying to talk him out of giving a #1 butch." Picking up a thick lock from his lap and holding it up he moaned. "Look what he did, dad! My hair! I’m screwed! I’ll be the laughing stock of the ninth grade with another grown-out butch. Arragh!"

The water works started in earnest again.

I had a second or so to decide how to handle this dilemma. I could have said that Rory is lying. He never said a word about a trim and that I just assumed he was here for the usual #1 butch. Or, I could do what my daddy taught me. Tell the truth and hope for the best.

I looked at Mike and sighed. "Mike, I’m very sorry. He did tell me what he wanted. And he’s right, I didn’t believe him." I quietly said. You could have heard a pin drop in the shop. All eyes were on us. "I figured he was just another kid trying to talk his way out of a haircut he didn’t want. You’re saying you really only wanted me to give him a trim? A little off the back, even up the sides, and feather his bangs? That’s what he told me he wanted." I nodded at Rory.

Mike glared at me. "Yes Joe, that’s exactly what I’m telling you. I’m perfectly O.K. with what he wants. So, what if its long. I grew mine out in high school too. Look at me now." He finished, pointing to his plush thick business mans cut that I kept trimmed to perfection for him.

"Joe, he’s 14 years old. He’s been coming here for years. You know him. You know me. Just when exactly do you start to believe your clients know what they want when they come in here? It’s not exactly like he’s some 7-year-old brat trying to bull s**t his way out of a butch."

Mike walked away, toward the door, and motioned me to follow.

He looked at me, clearly still angry. In almost a whisper he said. "Joe, I know you have this noble expectation that you are saving the youth of today, one butch cut at a time. And you think that teenagers with long hair are sliding into dire straits. However, I know my son. And I know firsthand what a bitch it is being a parent these days. Rory, and his friends are all good kids. Letting him have some freedom with respect to how he gets his hair cut is a win, win for everyone, including you, Joe. Look at me. I had long shoulder length hair when I was his age. I think I turned out pretty well though. Eventually he’ll cut it. It’s not a tattoo, or a piercing. Five minutes in a barber chair changes everything." He stopped to check and see if Rory had calmed down at all.

"Mike, how is this a win for me?" I asked.

"Joe, He’s been getting an annual butch cut for years. So have a lot of his classmates. That’s one cut a year for each of them. Consider this. You give him a trim now. He wants it to look a certain way. I’m willing to bet that I’d have been bringing him in every 8 weeks or so for another trim to keep it looking good. That’s a whole lot more business for you, right. And…you charge the same for a butch that you do for a trim, so that’s potentially 5x the number of cuts for him in a year. Instead of an annual one. And… you have a happy customer for a long time. They can trust you to do what they ask, without a parent. Believe me teenagers do NOT want mommy or daddy bringing them in. Think about it, O.K.?" He finished, then walked back over to Rory.

As I walked back over, Mike looked at me again. "So…What are we going to do about it now? Let me see, how bad is it?" He murmured, walking around behind Rory, to stand next to me.

I heard his sharp intake of breath as he lifted the flap of longish hair still partially covering the freshly clipped strip. Rory heard it too.

"Dad! I wanna see!" Rory moaned.

I turned the chair around and reached for the big hand mirror I usually use to show clients how the back of their hair looked when I finished cutting it.

His dad lifted the flap of longer hair up so he could see just how high up the clipped strip went. I held up the mirror. Rory's hand flew to the freshly clipped strip, rubbing it up and down. Rory sort of crumpled, shoulders sagging, and let out a gut wrenching moan.

Mike glared at me. "Alright Joe. We are not giving him a #1 butch today. Not happening. What other ideas do you have that keep the maximum amount of length, and hide that! He barked pointing to the clipped patch.

Now it was my turn to give the loud exhale. "Well," I said, studying Rory’s head. I slowly walked around to the side of him, taking in his side profile.

Rory got quiet. Waiting for my answer.

"I could give him a very nice short back and sides." I said quietly. He look quite handsome, and it wouldn’t be a butch.

This brought a fresh howl from Rory. "Never" he shouted.

I was getting worried. I had to get out of the short hair mind set, at least for this cut. "Eh, I could give him cut a similar to yours Mike, only short and tight along the lower half of the back so we’d blend the rest of the back to hide the short clipped patch.

Rory looked at his dad, red faced. "Dad! As much as I like your hair, I don’t want the same haircut as yours, not for a long, long time. God this sucks."

I was running out of practical ideas. I picked up the comb and combed Rory's hair down all around again. I noticed that the longer hair from above the fresh cut, still pretty much hid the clipped area, except for a tiny bit right at his nape.

And of course, the huge notch in the nice thick 6-inch-long locks hanging from his nape.

"There's always a nice crew cut, or Princeton, I could leave the fringe nice and long for you?" I offered.

Rory’s shoulders sagged again and he just moaned.

I held the mirror up so Rory could see and understand what I was going to suggest. I could just undercut along the bottom section, all across the back. Leave all this hair above longer, kind of like a bowl cut across the back. I’d have to shorten the sides quite a bit though, showing most of your ears. And then the fringe trimmed to about here." I indicated the fringe to be cut above Rory’s brows. "To make it look like a proper bowl cut."

If I didn’t have Rory’s attention before, I sure had it now with that explanation. WHAT! "No…no, no, no! He shouted. You are not giving me a little kids bowl cut. NOT for ninth grade, NOT to start high school with. This can’t be happening! Dad, this is all a bad dream right? Please tell me this is a bad dream!" Rory finished starting to sob again.

The shop was deathly quiet except for Rory’s sobs and sniffles.

The Rory looked up. Glaring at me. "Mr. DeFranco! Hold that mirror up again!" Rory swung his head from side to side. Pulled his fringe down over his face. It nearly touched his nose.

"Here’s what I want you to do. Trim the back like you said. Leave the longer, upper part as long as possible. Just slightly undercut it. I’ll lose a whole years’ worth of length off the bottom of the back. God this sucks." He sighed.

"Make the hair over my ears is the same length as the longer back part. That’ll keep my ears most of the way covered. I’ll still loose about four inches in length on the sides though." He said, giving me a malevolent stare. "And leave my bangs alone. Don’t touch em. That’s what I want, and that’s how you’re going to cut it, seeing as how you didn’t listen to me the first time. By the time school starts It’ll have mostly grown down to cover my ears and start to cover my nape.

Dad and Mr. DeFranco exchanged looks. Dad shrugged his shoulders. "You heard him."

I looked at Mike and said "Are you O.K. with that Mike? It’s not going to look very professional, or conventional on him." He really would be better served with a short back and sides, or a cut like yours Mike."

Mike looked at me and said "Joe, I think you owe it to him to do as he wants. It’s his hair. I don’t think he’s going to mind that it looks a bit off for the summer. In his mind it’s a whole lot better than any of your other suggestions.
I saw the two older boys get up and start to leave.

I looked over at them. "Hey boys, we’ll have this all sorted here in a few minutes. It won’t take long. Have a seat and I’ll get to you next, O.K. boys?" I said, I didn’t want to lose their business. They were once a year guys but didn’t have a parent with them today. Their lush manes a shining testament to the fact they only received annual shearings'.

The one with the dark blonde mane piped up. "Uh, no, that’s O.K. Mr. DeFranco. We’ll wait outside. Our dads sent us down here this morning. We’re going to go call them so they can come down here and vouch for what we want today. Thanks anyway." They toddled out of the shop to stand outside.

I looked back at Rory, sitting captive in the chair under the cape. He had settled down a bit but was by no means calm, cool and collected. Neither was his dad.

I decided to try one last time. "Rory, instead of the Beatles style cut you described. How about you just let me finish the #1 butch I’ve started? You know, come to think of it, I could leave it longer on top for you, even give you a longer crew cut. Give you a jump start on growing it out. How about it?"

"Sir" Rory barked, red faced but dead panned. "You mean after all this, you still aren’t going to do as I asked?"

I held my hands up in defeat as Rory started to stand up and try to take the cape off. "O.K. , O.K. O.K. Sit, sit." I said quietly. Holding my hands up in defeat. I was beginning to think Mike had something with the trimming and more frequent haircuts for these teenagers. Hmm. But it was so much more pleasurable for me to shear them down to a nice simple butch. I sighed. I noticed the young guy and older woman were watching this all with rapt attention.

I picked up my trusty shears and a comb. I combed him all out again.

"Dad, stand behind me and watch him. Please." Rory said. "I don’t want this part any shorter. That’s the starting length for the back and sides. Understand.?" Rory said. Tugging the long thick lock still mostly covering the clipped area.

I sighed heavily and put the shears down, picked up the clippers, and proceeded to clipper off all the nice long shoulder length locks in back, giving him a slight undercut. As I moved along across the back, mounds of the thick shoulder length locks were sliding off the clipper blades, cascading off his shoulders and landing in his lap, I could see his shoulders start to tremble. As I finished with the clippers I said "There son, that’s the worst of it. We’re done with the clippers." I murmured, patting his shoulder.

Rory growled "Yeah, we done aright, a whole year it took to grow that out, all gone, oh god." Rory said softly, giving a loud sniff.

I exchanged clippers for shears, and carefully evened up the long locks across the back, that really gave it a blunt bowl cut look. He had nice thick hair. I wanted to layer it at least a little to soften the bluntness. Right now, it looked like a home haircut. He didn’t want that though, at least not yet. I’d broach that with him once I’d finished removing the nice length on the sides.

I snipped off the nice thick locks hanging below his ears, exposing just the tip of his ears. It at least looked deliberate and was nice and evenly cut. As I started to layer it all to remove the bluntness, Rory barked "No! Leave it like that. At least for now."

His dad nodded that I should do as Rory asked. "O.K. son. I was just trying to make it look less like a bowl cut is all." I offered.

"Yeah, sure sir. Less like a bowl cut and more like a short back and sides. Not happening sir!" Rory huffed.

I combed his bangs back down. "At least let me trim the wispy ends here." I indicated a few longer stragglers in his fringe. "It’ll help it lay back when its parted in the middle. I could feather it for you too. It’ll lay better and stay brushed back better too. That wouldn’t be any different than what you wanted originally." I looked at him hopefully, with raised brows.

Rory looked hard at his reflection in the big mirror. He glanced at his dad and gave him a questioning look.

"I’ll watch him closely Rory. Let him trim the fringe for you. I think you should let him remove the bluntness on the sides and back too. It’s up to you though." His dad said. "I’ll watch him closely, don’t worry son."

Rory sagged. Thinking hard. Right now, it did look just like a grown-out bowl cut. "O.K., feather the bangs, and just layer a bit down at the ends of the sides and back so it isn’t so blunt. Not one Millimeter more than necessary though. Watch him dad!"

I nodded, giving his dad a furtive glance. I quickly but carefully layered the last inch of the sides, and a bit into the back. It lay much better after I did that.

His dad nodded approval. "That looks much better son." He said softly.

I moved on to feather his bangs, only taking the minimum off. When I finished, I brushed them back. They slid down just a little framing his face nicely. I was surprised, I kind of liked that look on him. His dad was right too. Letting this grow more than a couple of inches longer than this, it would look like a bob. I’d bet he’d want it trimmed at least every other time Mike came in. Hmm.

Rory had been watching closely, quiet and sullen the whole time. He moved a hand out from under the cape and ran it thru his fringe, flipping it back. I saw the corners of his mouth turn up just slightly. I could see he wanted to smile but was holding back.

"Are you done sir!" Rory barked again.

I studied him for a minute. I realized he still had a furry neck. Those neck fuzzies had to come off.

"I just have to remove the neck fuzzies and we’re done, son. That is…if the rest meets with your approval.

"Dad, watch him with those clippers!" Rory barked.

I picked up the peanut clippers and removed all the neck fuzzies as quickly as possible.

"There" I chirped triumphantly. "Done. I don’t think it looks half bad either."

I heard Rory mumble. "No, it looks all bad." I chose to ignore him though.

I unsnapped the cape, drawing attention to the pile of thick cut locks as they slid forlornly to the floor.

Rory whimpered as he stood up, eyeing all the hair now on the floor. He looked at himself in the big mirror one final time. Shaking his head and sighing. He ran his fingers into the plush fringe, flipping it back. Then he gave a head flip to see if that worked. It did. He turned to me.

Looking at him straight on, he would have looked better with some length below his ears in the back. He was developing a nice long neckline as he matured. Ah, well, I mused. Maybe I’ll still get the opportunity to trim it that way at some point in the future. I was hoping he’d still be my client after all this.

I gave him a small smile. "All things considered Rory, I think it looks pretty good. I hope you’ll come in before school starts for me to give it a trim and shape it up a bit for you. I can assure you I will do just what you ask me to do from now on. You won’t even have to come in with your dad."

Rory gave a loud harrumph. Glancing at the poor kid and the older lady, then looking thru the window at the boys still standing outside. Then he turned back to me. "Sir, this is NOT how I expected to leave the shop today. I can assure you, you won’t see me in here before next summer, if ever. I think I’ll find a shop that shows us lowly teenagers a bit more respect. This has been a total disaster. Good day. He said stiffly, sniffing as he headed for the door.

I turned to his dad. ‘No charge today, Mike. Maybe in a few months he’ll have cooled off and you can bring him in for me to touch it up. Hopefully, he’ll get word to his friends regarding how well I finally did listen, and reconsider going elsewhere." I said, nodding toward the boys standing outside. "Do you want me to trim you up while you’re here, Mike?"

Mike shook his head in the negative. "No Joe, I think I can wait a while. I’ll tell him you didn’t charge me. That might take a bit of the sting out of this debacle. You might redeem yourself, and keep a few teenage customers if you can convince the boys outside that you’ll listen to them. They’re classmates of Rory's. I’m sure word is already spreading like wildfire on social media about what happened here. I know they don’t want #1 butch cuts either. I’ll have a chat with them but don’t expect miracles.

Mike went out to talk with the boys. I could see a couple more boys had joined them too. Ugh. As much as I didn’t want to just trim up these shaggy boys, I guess it would be better for business to start encouraging longer cuts that require more maintenance. No one ever came in to get their annual butch freshened up in 3 or 4 weeks like they should anyway. Thinking more on it, if I got a chance to at least give them a trim every now and then, they wouldn’t have the shaggy dog look with a half or whole years growth either. Well groomed long hair certainly looked a damn site better than these guys did now.

I continued to ponder this as I turned to the older lady and the young boy. The boy easily had a whole year’s growth to deal with.

Well, it looks like your next, son. Hop right on up here and let’s see what we can do with this thatch." I said politely, patting the barber chairs red leather chair back.

Should I plant the seed and suggest a #1 butch, or ask what we were going to do today, and wait for her to decide, or suggest a nice trim and see where we go with that? Hmm. Such a dilemma I mused to myself.

The boy looked at his gramma with watery eyes as he approached the chair. Gramma do I have to get it cut? Can’t we just go home? I don’t wanna get all my hair cut off. Can’t I have it like that other guy?"
I sighed, this was gonna be a long day.

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