But where to stay? I decided to use internet to book a hotel in Manhattan. As you might know, hotels are really, really expensive. Well I didn’t know but I found that it was impossible to get a decent place to stay for less than $250 per night and that’s a lot of money for me.  

Anyway, a great idea came to my mind. Thanks to internet I have made some friends all over the world and I was sure some of them could recommend a place to stay for a couple of days. Well some of my buddies were very helpful and finally I got an apartment for only $80 per night for three days. 

Since the friends I made in Internet were all haircut fans, the subject of a haircut arose. I was planning to get my haircut just before leaving home but a friend from Europe had another idea in his mind.  

He told me that there was a great barbershop in Manhattan called Astor Place. Lots of action there and an old style barbershop.

You know I love haircutting and getting a haircut is really exiting so I kept asking him about the place. I am a really haircut fan but my hair has never been cut really short. When I was a kid, I hated going to the barbershop. Every time I had to go, I cried and I was always really mad at the barber after every haircut.  

Although I thought my haircut was always too short, the fact is that it was never shorter than 2 or 3 inches on the sides and 4 or 5 on top. I was 20 when I got my first business man haircut and it felt really short. Lately (during the last few years) I have played some games and tried shorter haircuts but to be truthfully I have never go further than a tapered cut with #2 on the neck and above the ears and never shorter than 2 inches on top.  

Anyway, it has been a while since I got my last haircut (almost 2 months) and my hair was quite long. I really needed to go to the barbershop but the idea of getting a haircut in NY in an unknown place was really tempting.  

This friend finally convinced me to wait and get a haircut there. And since he knows I like playing games he dared me to play one: he told me to go and ask for Dimitri, his regular barber when he goes to NY, and tell him to cut my hair the same way he did it for my friend last time.  

I reminded him I don’t like it too short but he promised me that the haircut wasn’t anything radical. Well, that was exiting, the week before leaving I couldn’t think of anything else. 

Finally I got in the plain and headed to NY: I went with my wife and daughter and told them I was going to get a haircut there because I didn’t have time to do it in Colombia and since we were on vacations for 2 weeks I was going to try something different.  

As soon as we woke up, I told her I was going to the barbershop in order to gain some time while she dressed up and got ready. She agreed and I took the subway to Astor Place. I was so nervous, in fact I decided I was not going to take any risks and I would ask for a trim.  

I finally arrived to the station and went out. It was freezing that day. It was very easy to find the place. I walked around the street a couple of times before deciding to get in. The barbershop didn’t look too big from outside, but once inside there were like 20 old style barber chairs. The place was almost empty (bad luck!!) and they ask me how they could help me.  

I asked for Dimitri and they told me to go downstairs. In the basement there are another 15 or so chairs and there were some guys getting their haircuts. I was so nervous I couldn’t see much.  

I asked for Dimitri again and they told me where to go. This barber is a Russian guy, very friendly and he asked me to sit. I did, and he put the cape and a paper towel in my neck. There was no return.  

When he asked me what I wanted, I didn’t know what to do. I kept quiet for a while and then, trying to get some time (the guy had a pair of clippers ready in his hands) I told him that a friend from England had recommended me to look for him and that I was not sure what haircut to get. I told him I was in the USA in vacations for two weeks. Dimitri inquired my about how my friend looked like and since really haven’t seen him, all I could tell was that he had a short haircut last time.  

I don’t really know if he ever knew who my friend was, but there was no more talking. He changed the blades of the clippers and pushed my head with his hand. I was know looking down to the white cape and my heart was pumping really fast.

I felt the clippers going up from my neck to the middle of my head. Then again and again. When he released my head I saw myself in the mirror and there was no change at all. But I knew there was nothing to do. Now he passed the clippers behind my right ear and over it. The hair that took 2 months to grow was now in the cape. Now I was pale, the guard he was using was #1, I looked kind of funny because I had no hair over my ear and more than 2 inches in the upper part of mu head. Clippers ran over my sideburn and left just a trace of it.

Then the left sided suffered the same treatment. I was worried. This wasn’t looking well. At least, I thought the bastard didn’t went up too high and I had the upper part unharmed. But not for long….

I was waiting him to turn off the clippers and take the scissors, but he didn’t. He just took a comb, lifted the upper part of my right side and bzzzzz, most of it was gone!!

I had never had it that short. I never left anybody to cut that part less than an inch and this guy just cut it off. Oh my God, I saw more hair falling over the cape. The guy in the mirror was getting a too short haircut!!

He continued passing the clippers and the comb in the back. In that moment, I remembered how I used to pass my fingers through the back of my head feeling more than 3 inches of nice looking hair. I did it a lot while expecting the haircut the week before leaving to USA. I knew it was going to be shortened but never thought it was going to disappear.

While the barber was cutting the left side, a lady came to sweep the floor, I tried to look down without moving my head too much (I wanted to avoid an accident with the clippers) and saw my hair, lots of it, being thrown away.

Now I was funny looking. my sides had no volume, while the hair in the top, combed to the back was 4 inches long.

When I told you that I tried some shorter haircuts, I have done it only with the sides and back. Every time they cut a little too much on top I hated it and regretted it terribly, so in every trip to a barbershop I took good care of saving the top, saying that I wanted the top to be cut only half an inch, and many times not at all (I rather cut it myself when I go to really old style barbershops).

Anyway, Dimitri finally turned off the clippers and sprayed water on top. That was the moment. I had to tell him not to cut too much. I saw him combing my hair, lifting the front part and cutting a huge bang. It happened too fast, I don’t know why I didn’t say a word. The only thing I did was look down at the cape and stare at a 3 inches lock of hair. While doing this, more hair started to join the first one. Now I knew I was going to regret the trip to Astor Place.

The worst thing is that after he took off my great hair away, he kept cutting it on top for I don’t know how long but it looked like an eternity. While he went for some liquid to wet my sideburns and neck before the shaving part, I looked at my self in the mirror. What the hell have I done? How long is it going to take to look normal?

With resignation, I felt the razor over my ears and back. There was nothing to do. The barber was talking from time to time about my country and his, but I really didn’t listened a word. When I was done, I didn’t know if I felt depressed, subjugated or exited.

I just say thanks and went to the cashier to pay. I went to the bathroom to see the damage closely but there were no mirrors. I rubbed my head, feeling very short hair all over. You know the feeling. I remembered the way it felt just half an hour before and debated between regret and excitement.

I went out, I could feel the cold weather all over my head. I felt like I was almost bald. I took the subway back and felt that everybody was looking at me. I know nobody really cared and they didn’t know me with my lovely hair but, still I felt strange, almost like if I were naked.

The End