The Haircut Story Site

experiencia by juanfran

Ya tenía el cabello bastante crecido y desprolijo. Siempre había concurrido a salones de moda donde te retocan sin cortarte y te cobran un dineral, asi que decidí concurrir a una peluquería antigua donde te cortan el cabello a tu gusto. No conocía ninguna hasta que un día volviendo del trabajo en el bus ví una que parecía muy antigua sobre la calle Ayacucho en Buenos Aires. Decidí bajar del colectivo y dirigirme hacia el local. Un cartel antiguo sobre la puerta le daba nombre al negocio Peluquería Don Juan. Era un local muy viejo de paredes descascaradas y con una puerta desvencijada de madera a trves de la que se podía ver un viejo sillón de barbero. Al principio dudé pero ya en la puerta me animé a entrar. No había ningún cliente solo el barbero charlando con algún conocido. Debía ser un hombre de unos 70 años, regordete y casi calvo. Vestía un delantal blanco hasta las rodillas y gafas. Al entrar me saludó con cortesía y me invitó a sentarme. Me anudó al cuello una capa blanca que cubría casi todo el sillón. Sobre un marmol debajo del espejo se veían las herramientas de trabajo: tijeras, peines, una brocha y tres o cuatro máquinas cortapelo antiguas. Cuando me comenzó a peinar , adelantándose a mi pedido me dijo con voz firme ¿ como lo hacemos? a lo que contesté la nuca rebajada y arriba libre como para poder peinarlo.
Me dejó de cara al espejo con lo que podía ver todos sus movimientos. En verdad ya no estaba muy convencido de estar allí pero era tarde para escapar.Vi que tomó una de las máquinas y dirigiéndose detrás mío comenzó a levantarla desde la base de la nuca hacia arriba. Me pareció que la había subido demasiado , pero no dije nada.Repitió el movimiento tres o cuatro veces cubriendo toda la nuca. En el momento que volvió para cambiar la máquina alcancé a pasarme la mano por mi nuca y noté que estaba rapada al milimetro., parecían puas mis cabellos. Le pregunté si no estaba quedando muy corto a lo que respondió que era el corte de moda.En los costados , hasta las sienes, la maquina se llevó mis patillas. Ya no tenía dudas de que iba a salir de allí totalmente pelado.Me cortó bastante del cabello de la parte superior y con una navaja me rasuró lo que habían sido mis patillas y la base de la nuca. Con otra maquina de puas mas estrechas volvió a la parte de atras para dejarla aún más pelada. Me limpió con un cepillo , y con un espejo de mano me mostró mi nuca terminada. Nunca creí que mi nuca se vería tan descubierta. Estaba rapado al máximo. Me quitó la capa y me sugirió un nuevo corte al mes siguiente. Nunca más volví.

Comments
PODES PASAR LA DIRECCION EXACTA DE LA PELUQUERIA? MUY LINDA HISTORIA
by GABRIEL on 17 Jan 2014
Direccion??, ayacucho y que?
by Anon on 16 Jan 2014
Podes pasar bien la dirección, a que altura de Ayacucho?, es en capital? muy buena experiencia
by gabriel on 16 Jan 2014
Buena barbería en la que caíste, Juan Fran. Lo que no me parece nada bien es que no volvieras a visitar a ese barbero. Locales como el de la Barbería Don Juan deberían estar protegidos como un monumento nacional.
by Anon on 29 Dec 2013
My hair was pretty grown out and messy. I had always gone to trendy salons where they give you a touch up without cutting very much and charge you a fortune, so i decided to go to an old fashioned barber shop where they cut your hair the way you want it. I didn't even know there were any shops like that around here until I saw this place one day on the bus home from work. It looked very old school and was on Ayacucho Ave. in Buenos Aires. I decided to get off the bus and check it out. An old sign above the door said "Don Juan's Barbershop." It was an old shop with peeling paint and a rickety wooden door through which you could see the the old barber's chair. I was a little nervous at the door, but I worked up the courage to go in. There wasn't anyone in the chair, just the barber chatting with a buddy. The barber was about 70 years old, stocky and nearly bald. He was wearing a white apron down to his knees. When I entered, he greeted me in a friendly way and invited me to sit down. He fastened a white cape around my neck that nearly covered the whole chair. I took a look at his tools, spread out on the marble counter in front of the mirror: scissors, combs, a brush, and three or four old sets of clippers. While he was combing my hair, he said to me in a stern voice, "What are we doing here?" I told him to take it down short on the sides and to leave enough to comb on top.

He left me facing the mirror so that i could see what he was doing. I wasn't sure i wanted to be there anymore, but it was too late to get out of this. I watched him pick up the clippers. Placing them on the back of my neck, he began to run them up the bottom of my neck and follow through all the way up. It felt like he had taken them up too far, but i didn't say anything. He passed them up the back three or four times, running them way high up the neck. When he went to change the clippers, i reached my hand up the back and felt that he had taken it down to a 0. There was just a tiny fraction of stubble left. I asked him if he was taking it too short, but he replied that this was what was in style. He kept going, passing the clippers up my sideburns, stripping them off all the way to the temples. At that point i knew that i was getting out of there skinned down tight. He chopped my hair down short on top, and took the straight razor around the edges of my neck and over what had once been my sideburns. He took out the edgers and went over the back again, taking it down even shorter near the neck. Then he brushed the stray hairs off my neck and around my ears, and showed me the skinned back with a hand mirror. I never thought that i would see my nape so naked. It was clipped down to nothing. He took off the cape and told me that he expected me back next month, but I never came back.
by regular translate :) on 23 Dec 2013

He had grown pretty messy hair . He had always busy at trendy lounges where you retouch no cut and charge you a fortune , so I decided to go to an old barbershop where you cut your hair to your liking. I did not know any until one day returning from work on the bus I saw one that looked very old on the street in Buenos Aires Ayacucho . I decided to get off the bus and head to the local . An old sign on the door gave the business name Barber Don Juan. It was a very old local peeling walls and a rickety wooden door trves from which you could see an old barber chair . At first I hesitated at the door , but I decided to enter. There were no customers the barber just chatting with a colleague . He must be a man in his 70s , stocky and nearly bald. He wore a white apron and goggles knee . Upon entering I was greeted with courtesy and invited me to sit . I knotted around his neck a white coat that covered almost the entire chair. Scissors, combs , brush and three or four old trimmer machines : on a marble under the mirror working tools were visible. When I began combing , anticipating my order told me in a firm voice how we do it? to what I said above the recessed and free as to comb neck.
He left me facing the mirror I could see her every move. In truth I was not convinced to be there but was too late to escapar.Vi who took one of the machines and going behind me began to lift from the base of the neck up. I thought he had gone too far , but said the movement nada.Repitió three or four times covering the entire neck. At the time they came to change the machine managed to pass the hand over my neck and noticed it was shaved to the millimeter . , My hair seemed picks . I asked him if he was not being very short and he replied that it was cutting moda.En sides, to the temples , the machine took my sideburns . He had no doubt that he would get out of there totally pelado.Me got pretty hair on top and shaved me with a knife which had been my sideburns and nape of the neck . With another machine picks narrower again the back to let even more bare . I cleaned with a brush, and a hand mirror showed me my finished neck. I never thought my neck would look so naked . He was shaved to the max. He took off my coat and suggested a new cut next month. I never saw .

by google translate on 22 Dec 2013