The Haircut Story Site

Birthday party. by strictsir

This story is already old. I was 14 years old at the time. It was Friday evening and my mother told me: Dario, tomorrow at 8 o'clock in the morning we are traveling to Uncle Castillo's for a birthday party. I asked: Why in the morning, when the party is not until the afternoon. I promised to help them prepare the party. For now, you will play with Uncle Castillo's children. I was looking forward to the boys, but Uncle Castillo was a very strict and very conservative person and I admit that I was also afraid of him. I am glad that he is not my father.
On Saturday at 8 o'clock I was sitting with my father and mother on the train. After about an hour we got off the train and walked about 15 minutes to Uncle Castillo. After the party, I joined Uncle Castillo's sons. The oldest son Sebastian was 15, the youngest son Liam was 13, and the youngest Russell was only 12.
Mark, she started helping with the party preparations. Uncle Castillo told my father. While the women were preparing for the party, we're going to take the boys to the barber to get their hair cut. In 2000, boys my age didn't like the word barber. I started to protest that I had been to a unisex modern barbershop about 6 weeks ago and didn't need to get my hair cut again. Uncle Castillo yelled at me that no one asked me anything and I would do what the adults told me. I was proud of my very beautiful and long blond hair and I was proud of it. When I looked closer at the boys, I noticed that they had short hair. It was less than 2 inches long on the top of their heads and maybe not even 1/2 inch long on the back of their heads. Their hairstyles were short and unfashionable. I don't remember ever having hair this short. There were only 3 boys in our class at that time with short hair like Uncle Castillo's sons.
On the way to the barbershop, I was hoping it would be a modern barbershop, where the barber would just cut my hair like I was used to in our trendy unisex barbershop, where I went about 4-5 times a year.
After half an hour of walking, I saw an old shabby house with a spinning bar announcing that there was a barbershop there. I started to get nervous. Above the entrance to the barbershop was a sign saying "Nicholas Barbershop". The barbershop was very old, with one barber chair. The barber was also an old man in a white coat. I guessed that he must have retired long ago.
After arriving at the barbershop, Uncle asked Mr. Nicholas how long it would take to cut these 4 boys and pointed at us. The barber looked at the waiting chairs where 6 old men were sitting. He replied, "I'll cut these gentlemen's hair and then your children's." So, in 90 minutes, they'll be cut too. The uncle asked if he could leave us there and then come and pay for our haircuts. He said something else to the barber, but I didn't hear it.
My uncle told us that he and my father still had work to do and that we should wait for them if we got our hair cut before they returned. I still believed that even in this old barbershop I would only get the haircut I was used to.
While we were waiting for our haircut, we talked and laughed. When suddenly Mr. Nicholas called out: come sit here, boy or girl, and pointed at me. The old men who were waiting for their haircuts laughed loudly. I realized where I was again. My legs began to give out and I quickly thought about what I would tell Mr. Nicholas, how I wanted him to cut my hair.
The barber wrapped me in a black and white striped sheet, tied it tightly around my neck and started to comb my hair. He took an electric clipper from the counter, and with his other hand tilted my head forward. I felt the cold metal of the teeth of the electric clipper on my neck. For a moment I didn't understand what was happening. I had never been cut with a clipper like this before. The barber turned on the clipper, it made a loud, unpleasant sound. I wanted to move, but the barber held my head even tighter. It was like I was in a vice. I felt the teeth cutting my hair from my neck all the way to the back of my head. The first of my long hairs fell on the sheet. I feel the teeth of the clipper on my neck again and then it moves down the back of my head. Someone opened the door to the barbershop and I felt a cold breeze on the cut part of my head. The barber shook my head and more of my long hair fell onto the sheet and the floor. I had already cut the back of my head and both sides of my head. The remaining hair was maybe 1/4 inch long. I only had long hair on the top of my head. The barber started lifting the hair on the top of my head and cut it off piece by piece. When I had about 2 inches of hair on the top of my head, he put his fingers through my hair, felt them on my scalp, and then cut off the hair that stuck out above his fingers.
As he brushed the cut hair from the sheet, I expected him to release me from under the sheet. But I was wrong again. The barber brought out a clipper with finer metal teeth. He started cutting the hair around my ears. First on the right side of my head, then on the left side. Then he cut the short hair from my neck to almost the entire nape of my neck. The hair cut was a transition from stubble to the longest hair on the top of my head, which was a little over an inch long.
I had no idea what was going to happen next when he applied white foam to part of my sides and the back of my head. When he scraped it off, only white skin was left 2 inches above my ears. He applied a greasy cream to the top of my head and combed my hair forward, straightening my short bangs.
The white shaved skin blended with the remaining short blond hair on the sides of my head, and from a distance it looked as if I was hairless. When the barber released me from under the sheet, I sat in the chair for a moment, my eyes wide, staring at the horrible image of the poor boy with the small head. I was only woken up from my shock by Sebastian, who was standing by the chair waiting for my turn. Sebastian poked me and said: Dario, you kind of liked it here and started laughing. I jumped out of the chair and thanked the barber for the haircut as instructed.
I sat down on the waiting chair and began to look for my hair, my pride. Instead, I found clean-shaven skin almost all over the back of my head.
I looked at Sebastian, who had just had a haircut. The barber had just scraped off the foam on his sides and the back of his head. 6/7 of the back of my head was shaved clean and 1/7 was a small stubble.
All 4 of us boys had already had the same haircut and were waiting for my father and uncle Castillo to arrive. We were like in a shop window. All the new customers were looking at our new haircuts. I asked Sebastian if they always come here for a haircut. He said yes, they have such short haircuts every 3-4 weeks. Then I asked: And don't they make fun of you at school? Sebastian replied that everyone is used to it but sometimes someone will find someone who will throw a mocking remark.
On Monday there wasn't a boy at school who wouldn't laugh at my unconventional new haircut.

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