My Journey with Jack by Manny

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I glanced at my watch. It would be a little tight timewise, but getting a trim before the business trip would be best.

My hair was on the verge of going from the perfect, longish executive coif I so enjoyed to somewhat of an overgrown shag...which, in a few days, would morph into veritable mop. I had a thick and somewhat wavy mane. Since it grew so quickly, I had to keep it trim and in check to maintain a professional look.

As I took a brush to my chestnut-colored locks, I admired the fiery auburn highlights that blazed within the natural luster. So handsome, so youthful-looking. I had no doubt that my dense mane was a major contributor to that image.

As I left the office, I had 30 - 40 minutes of extra time. That meant I could swing by my barber shop on the way to the airport. I hoped my regular barber, Larry, would be available because I didn't have the luxury to wait.

The Central Barber Shop occupied a mid-century storefront. A striped fabric awning in dark red and white extend across the full width of the brick facade, and a rotating red, white, and blue barber pole publicized the shop's function. Beneath the large front window that announced 'Walk-ins Welcome' was a wooden slat bench. A portable sign near the front door advertised discounts for students on Wednesdays and for seniors throughout the whole week.

Arriving at the barber shop and seeing its traditional features always made my heart beat faster.

Even before pushing the door open, I saw that Larry was just beginning a new client...the cape was floating into place around a shaggy teen.

My back-up barber, Don, was also engaged. Fortunately, the haircut he was given was farther along. He was perfecting the taper around the ear with shaving cream and a straight-edge razor.

Larry and Don greeted me as I entered the shop. I glanced around before removing my suit jacket.

A row of heavy-duty barber chairs lined the right side of the room, upholstered in dark burgundy leather with chrome frames and white bases. The long wooden counter that ran behind the chairs was equipped with a variety of cutting tools and towels, as well as a hot lather machine and jars of blue barbicide.

To the left was the waiting area, stacked with magazines for customers. Reluctantly, it was also my destination.

As I took a seat in the one of the slightly uncomfortable chairs and reached for a magazine, Don began to recline his chair. His client's massive beard was going to take a lot of time!

I decided my trim would have to wait. I stood to leave, noting that I was on my way to the airport with a fairly tight schedule.

"Take a seat there," Larry said, nodding to the third chair. "You haven't met Jack yet. He's fresh out of barber college and doing a fine job. He'll be with you momentarily -- he's just out back, emptying the trashcans."

Fresh out of barber college! Oh, no! My cultivated tresses were in jeopardy.

But, I didn't want to appear rude. And, all I needed was a trim.

I eased into the empty barber chair. How I loved the feel of the soft, worn burgundy leather!

Within moments, Jack appeared. He was a bit of a stocky young man who sported a clean, modern fade with the top styled upward into short, textured spikes. His dark green, short-sleeved barber's smock was zipped up over a blue collared polo shirt.

"Hi, I'm Jack," he said, smiling warmly as he reached for a cape.

"Welcome to the team," I replied. "You're just starting out, I hear."

Jack blushed and smiled nervously, "That's right."

"I'm sure you'll be able to give me a good trim," I said to preemptively address any ideas of short spikes on top! "I don't have a lot of time, as I'm heading to the airport."

Jack was quick and methodical as he caped me up, repeating the instruction for a 'trim'.

He spritzed my hair down and then began to methodically give me a scissors cut, taking off a quarter of an inch from the top and sides. I watched the snippets fall to the cape and felt quite content with Jack's work.

As his attention turned to the back of my head, Jack noted, "It's rather long back here. Do you mind if I take it a bit shorter?"

I knew that my hair grew unevenly and that the back always needed a bit more off than the top and sides. Jack had a good eye!

"Sure," I replied, confidently.

I couldn't see exactly what was happening, because the hair fell directly to Jack's feet. The sound of the wet locks being shorn off, though, changed a bit in tone. The quick snips morphed into louder, prolonged slicing sounds -- scissors cutting through dense, damp hair.

Then, a few cut clumps fell to my shoulder. Egad!! They were over an inch long -- almost two!

SNIP, SNIP, SNIP!

The shears were relentless.

SNIP, SNIP, SNIP!!

Jack was clearing away a lot of overgrowth in back!

My typical length at the nape was to mid-collar, and left quite full!

At this point, I was sure that Jack was taking it clear off-the-collar. Perhaps even right to the nape!

Oh, well, a shorter back wasn't anything to worry about. The front and sides looked perfect.

Jack stopped cutting, and I relaxed. He pulled a brush through the damp locks, fashioning quite an elegant executive look.

"How's this?" he asked.

"Perfect!" I remarked, turning my head from side to side, trying to see the back.

Jack reached for the clippers. Probably to tidy up the neck, I thought. That was normal.

The young barber forced my head down into a slight bow.

Then, it happened!!

He brought the clippers up, tight through the NAPE! I was getting my nape tapered with a set of electric clippers!

Again, and again! The clippers were quick at their task.

I was too surprised and too numb to react. I sat still and silent as Jack tapered my nape.

It felt like it was being clipped extremely short -- a low and tight!

My heart was racing wildly!

Finally, I'd had enough.

"Uh, can you wrap things up, Jack?" I asked nervously. "I really need to get to the airport."

He immediately did as instructed.

There was only a brief moment with a hand mirror to see my new look in back.

My first tapered nape!! A very short low-and-tight with a wide band of creamy white skin showing.

"Nice, nice," I said hurriedly, just to get out of the chair.

In my rush, I gave Jack a 10 dollar tip.

"A great start to your new career, Jack. Thanks for the haircut," I murmured, eager to leave the shop.

"Hope you like the shorter back," he said, trying to elicit more of a reaction.

"Oh, yes. It may be a bit shorter than I'd expected, but it looks quite sharp and professional," I replied before glancing at the damp locks scattered behind the chair I had just vacated.

Jack smiled very broadly. He seemed pleased that I was pleased.

"Have a safe trip," he remarked cheerfully.

The whole way to the airport, I couldn't stop fingering the tightly tapered nape. I became intrigued with the new length.

In the airport, I bought a compact mirror just to get a better view of the shorn nape in a "family bathroom" mirror.

OMG! That broad band of white skin was startling!

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In the days that followed, there were a few comments about my haircut. Not many -- casual observations, really.

In my mind, I replayed the scene over and over again...when Jack took the clippers to my nape with a quick, firm assault on the exec coif.

I found myself longing for the same treatment around the ears. The fluff mowed away.

QUICK! BRUTAL!! WHITEWALLS!!!

I held off for as long as I thought reasonable and then found myself returning to the Central Barber Shop. Throughout the whole drive there, I felt hard as a bat!

It wasn't quite three weeks, and there was no way I was "ready" for a haircut under normal parameters. But, these were not normal parameters!

My hand seemed shaky as I pushed through the glass door leading into the shop.

"Afternoon, gentlemen," I said casually.

This time, both my regular barber Larry and my new favorite Jack were available. A conundrum, for sure, but one that I had planned for in advance.

"I thought I'd give Jack a little business," I remarked casually as I took off my suit jacket. "I remember when I was just starting out in my career. It felt good to score an early win with a steady client."

Larry disguised any irritation he may have felt at my "abandoning" him -- Jack rose from the big throne where he'd been idle, smiling at me.

"That's mighty kind of you, sir," he said.

My feelings were a total jumble as I eased into the chair.

"You know, I was thinking," I said, trying to sound casual, as Jack reached for the cape. "I really liked the shorter length in back that you suggested last time -- got quite a few compliments. I thought, perhaps, uh, around the ears too? You know, uh, a short taper around the ears? Oh, and perhaps, uh, tighter, uh, and a bit higher up the back? I like not having all that thick hair on my neck and hanging sloppy-like over the collar."

"Definitely!" Jack replied enthusiastically. "Hot weather and short hair go together like peanut butter and jelly!"

As the cape was fastened into place, I felt my stomach churn. I could tell I'd unleashed some eagerness in the young barber.

Jack reached for the clippers and seized a huge set of Osters.

He snapped them on.

As they hummed threateningly close to my hair, Jack commented, "But keep it long on top, right?"

"Yes, fairly long," I replied.

"Perhaps just thinned out a little? Your hair is so thick and bulky," Jack noted.

I had always been proud of that thick bulk which allowed for quite a showy helmet.

"Yes, I know. So, you think thinning it a bit would be best?" I asked with just a hint of skepticism.

"Leave it to me," said Jack as he nudged my head forward with a firm grip.

Instantly, the clippers were tight to my nape.

UP, UP, UP they climbed...as close to the scalp as they could get, over a third of the way up the back of my head!

Beneath the cape, I gripped the arms of the chair to keep myself from swooning.

OMG, I could feel Jack peeling away the familiar padding of my executive coif. I could feel the cool air conditioning chilling the bared scalp that had been covered with a warm layer of padding!

Over and over, Jack tapered the back, and each time the clippers climbed tighter and higher.

I could feel, but not see, the dramatic change.

When Jack began to tackle the side of my head reality took over from imagination. I could watch it happen in real time! Again, I gripped the arms of the chair to steady myself.

In a flash, a huge whitewall surrounded my ear! Tight to the skin!! AGH!! I stared in horrified amazement.

Jack was fast as lightening as he dispatched the executive coif to the cape, carving an arch around the ear. Clumps of lovely chestnut fell in sheaves. I continued to stare in shock, frozen in numbness.

"Short enough, or perhaps you want a high fade on the side instead of a medium fade," Jack suggested.

"No, no, this is perfect," I replied quickly. "Looking mighty fine without all the fluff."

My stomach was in full revolt as I saw the pale white skin that showcased my nicely shaped ear.

Jack continued chiseling away at the fluff, reducing it systematically until it was a mere hint of color on the sides of my head.

Then, he turned his attention to the top, the only part still with length.

He combed my dense forelock straight down, so that it all but covered my eyes.

"Oh, my," the barber murmured. "There is way too much here."

An assault with the thinning scissors began on the forelock.

SNIP, SNIP, SNIP. COMB. SNIP, SNIP, SNIP. COMB. SNIP, SNIP, SNIP. COMB.

Wisps and strands fluttered down to my lap.

He swapped scissors.

SNIP, SNIP, SNIP!

I watched with disbelief as Jack lopped off the thinned forelock to halfway between my eyebrows and my hairline. I was horrified at the mutilation of my prime lock!!

But, he was not done. Oh, no!

The whole top got similar treatment. Excessive thinning followed by a snipping half of the length off.

When the cutting and clipping finally stopped, I had a very streamlined look. Gone was the elegant, executive coif! Gone was the ostentatious helmet hair! In its place was a modern skin fade. The cape was absolutely covered in glimmering chestnut...my former mane!

Jack took a whisk to my ears and nape. How it tickled and made me smile.

When he showed me the back, I almost fainted. SCALPED could not begin to describe the look.

As I emerged from the chair, Larry commented in a bit of a sarcastic tone, "You're looking like a new man there. Sure got your money's worth from Jack."

His remark irritated me.

"And, it was worth every penny," I replied curtly to Larry, the barber I had jilted.

To stress my point, I preened in the mirror and commented, "Jack you seem to know just what I want."

As I handed him the payment, along with a generous tip, I suggested, "Perhaps next time, even shorter?"

Jack beamed. "Oh, for sure! And, you don't have to say a word. Just leave it to me."

"Sounds like a plan," I replied as my blood pressure spiked. "It'll be barber's choice."

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It took me quite a while before I finally made myself return to the Central Barber Shop for the "barber's choice" haircut with Jack. During the ensuing months, I thought of it constantly. My stomach was forever in knots, it seemed.

I had endured a lot of grief with the medium-high fade from my executive colleagues which, fortunately, was offset by praise from the younger men in the office.

The fade grew out nicely. All the bare skin became covered with a well-groomed, tidy pelt.

But, when the sides and nape started looking sloppy, I knew I could not put off my date with Jack and his clippers much longer.

"Ah, finally!" Jack exclaimed as I pushed open the barber shop door. "I was wondering when you'd return. Are you still game for 'barber's choice'?"

He remembered! He'd probably been fantasizing about it for the ten weeks that had passed since my last visit to his chair.

"Yep," I said calmly. "And, if you don't mind, I'd like to face away from the mirror so it's truly a surprise."

"Of course, the big reveal," Jack commented. "And, will I ever have a surprise for you!"

A promise or a threat?!

Jack slowly swiveled the chair to face away from the mirror I promptly mounted the foot rest and eased into the welcoming leather upholstery.

Jack snapped the cape open. The fierce crack of the cotton startled me. Then, I felt the tightening at my neck and pictured Jack fastening the big metal clip into place. I had been straightjacketed -- there would be no escaping barber's choice. My doom has been sealed. I had turned myself over -- blindly, fully -- to Jack's whim.

As he brought the Oster's to life, Jack chirped gleefully, "This is going to be so much fun."

With a firm grip, he forced me head to bow low. With the other hand, the Oster's were driven tight up the back -- all the way from nape to crown. Everything in back was being peeled off, I sensed.

"You going to leave anything for the poor fellow to comb?" asked barber Don, who idled in the chair next to mine.

Jack was quick in shaving off all the hair from the side and back of my head. I sat in stunned submission as he stripped me clean.

After the sides and back were bare, he fiddled around with the blade.

Jack brought the clippers up in front of my face and asked, "Ready?"

I gulped and croaked, "I guess so."

"Ready or not!" he announced as he lifted my short bangs off my forehead.

Then, with an almost maniacal drive he ran the Oster's straight down the top of my head, from hairline to cowlick!

BUZZZZZZZ.

Off came all the length!

Remnants of my formerly lush chestnut mane fluttered down in sparse profusion to the cape.

The vibration of the clippers on the top of my head felt absurd, but amazing. Within instants, I was treated to a second...and third...and fourth drive. It was as if I were in marine bootcamp!

"No more old-fogey coif for you," Jack chortled as the wrapped up his assault.

He whisked away at my face and ears.

"Ready to see your new bald fade?" Jack asked.

BALD FADE!!

Just the name of the haircut was enough to take away my last breath!

I nodded weakly and the chair began to swivel with a smooth, hydraulic hiss, coasting into place to directly face the mirror.

I blinked wildly as I saw the new me!

There wasn't a trace left of the high-volume, impeccably styled executive coif. The luxurious chestnut waves that used to crown my head were replaced by a fine coating of dense stubble. Below that meagre dark patch, the hair didn't just shorten...it vanished.

Jack had executed a flawless skin fade -- a BALD fade! -- which transitioning seamlessly from the dark shadow on top into completely bare, smooth skin around my temples and ears. Without the soft, rounding proportions of my old coif, the geometry of my face changed completely. The elegant flow had been replaced by aggressive, angular military precision. I looked years younger, but scarily dangerous!

"What do you think?" Jack asked, playfully rubbing the small patch of stubble. "Too long up here?"

I swallowed hard. My throat was dry. I was still trying to formulate a response.

I didn't look like a vice president anymore -- more like a cop, or bar bouncer, or gritty construction worker.

"It's...uh, clean," I managed to say, my voice sounding slightly deeper, stripped of its usual corporate polish.

"Should I lather shave all of this?" Jack suggested, running his hands on the whitewalls and back of my head.

"Uh, no. It's fine like the way it is," I said, suddenly feeling a desperate urge to get out of that chair, out of that shop.

Jack smiled and smirked as he withdrew the cape.

My legs felt like jelly as I descended from the throne-like chair. My crown was in shatters on the linoleum floor.

As I handed Jack his payment, he asked, "When will I see you again?"

"Not for a while," I remarked blankly.

I staggered out the door.

In the cool dusk, I finally had the courage to feel my bald fade.

"Not for a VERY LONG while," I murmured as I walked to my car.

As I gazed in the rearview mirror at my stark new look, I said in a clear and committed voice, "Never, Jack! You are NEVER going to see me again!"

The bald fade was ONE and DONE!

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