One day, I wanted to get a haircut; I hadn't had one in awhile. my usual shop was closed [this was around 6pm or so, when the urge to get  buzzed is highest]. around the corner from my shop was this tiny shop run by a chinese guy and his old grandfather. I mean OLD. there wasn't barely enough room to sit fown,but I managed to, hoping that I could get the son to cut my hair just like the cop in his chair.

his was a nice short flattop just the way I like them. well, needless to say, it was taking a while, and in the interim the grandfather had finished. oh well, ithought;the person's cut looked okay, so I sat in his chair. he shuffled around-put the cape around my neck and just as I was about to tell him what I wanted, he picked up a HUGE pair of clippers and snapped them on. then, standing there, humming clippers in his hand, he asked me in broken english what I wanted. I explained as best I could how I wanted it cut just like the guy next to me, and he kept nodding his head.

so he started buzzing and buzzing up my neck and the back of my head, all very methodical and quite relaxing. he took his time, which I like [no quick cuts is my motto] and I found myself being lulled to sleep with the soft chinese music, the mumbling of the other partrons and the buzzing of the clippers...

what I didn't take into account was that since I wear glasses, and they were off,  the guy in the son's chair had only just started his haircut whan I came in and was being sheared like a sheep...suddenly I was roused by the son, who had stepped over to see how the old man was doing and started shouting at him. I couldn't see what was going on, but he grabbed my head and seemed to be berating him for something he had done to the back of my head with the clippers.

I sat there, shell-shocked. what had he done?!!! I  wanted to get up and run, but the son swiftly grabbed another pair of big noisy clippers and buzzed up the back of my head over and over, higher and higher, all the while yelling at the old man. oh shit, I thought I didn't know what was happening, but this was going to definately be the shortest haircut i've gotten yet...suddenly, I realized I was getting aroused by this constant buzzing, and before I could stop myself, I had come in my pants. oops.that hadn't happened in a loooong time...

finally, he said ,ok that's it, that's what its supposed to do, and went back over to his chair.

never again, I thought, never ever again will I come back to this place. the cut was short,all right- I  couldn't believe how short it was. I mean SHORT...I didn't need to go back to the barber's for about 2 and a half months.
but do you know what? when I need it cut again,  I marched right back into that same shop, and willingly sat in the old man's chair again, even though they were both available. how do you like that? the cut had been so scary  and thrilling and relaxing all at the same time, I didn't care how long it took him or even how short and botched  he cut it.. [and every  time I had it buzzed like that there, I came again and again.  I couldn't help it it was such a perfect haircut experience.]

The End

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