Teenage Haircut-TRUE STORY! by Yasstehbrilliant

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My dad was the sort of dad who you didn't mess with, he was firm and definitely not fair.

You see, when I was 13 I started growing out my hair. My mother agreed with it but my father despised it, he pretended to like it so he didn't upset my mother. But, whenever my mother wasn't in sight he would complain about my brown collar length ''mop''. I kept it in good condition, washed it everyday and combed it at night. But for some reason he always found a flaw in my locks.

One day when I came home from school, he told me that he'd booked an appointment for me at the barbers where he gets his hair cut. I was very worried at this point as my dad would always come home from the barbers with a horseshoe flattop. I screamed at him and pleaded with all my mite but he never gave in. I went up to my room until he called me down and told me to get into the car.

I didn't dare disagree with my father, he'd probably give me a good beating if I ever did. I got into his car and he drove me to the barber. He told me he was going to go to get some groceries whilst I had my mop cleaned up. He told me I was not getting back into the car until my hair was #2 all around and #3 on top. I had no idea what he was talking about so I just memorized the gibberish that seemed to be coming from his mouth.

When I entered the old fashioned barbers shop I was greeted by an old man. ''you must be Mr.Whiteman's son...'' he said. ''Um..yeah.'' I muttered in the most politest way. ''Come this way, son. Your father has told me all about you!''. By this I was concerned by what my ''beloved'' father had told him.

He led me into an old fashioned room with a large barber's chair. A small working bench was placed by the side of the seat with scissors, clippers and other haircutting equipment. The old man told me to sit down in the chair and tied the tight cape around my neck. He asked me what I wanted and began to cut away at my brown locks. He then brought out the Oster clippers and pushed my head forwards so my chin was touching my chest. He began to shave from my nape to the very top and then finished up with the shaving. Soon he added a new attachment and shaved my back and sides almost bald, I was on the brink of tears at this point. Then, he started to shave the crown with another adjustment.

''Take a look in the mirror, kid.'' he said firmly.

I hate to admit it but I really liked it. As soon as he removed the hair covered cape I felt my smooth, buzzed head. I gained a strange sensation from the sandpaper like crown. The breeze from the room was amazing on my new haircut.

To this day, I still thank my dad for that forced haircut. I keep it buzzed every month. As I grow old I will get it buzzed even shorter.

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