A Boy's Haircut for Summer
By Male RN
When I was 10, my hair had really grown out to a long, thick mop on the top of my head. It seemed like no matter how it was combed, it looked like a mess. Of course, at age 10, grooming was low on my priority list, and your classmates inevitably capitalized on another one's newly shorn look. For weeks my mother was on my case about getting a haircut, and finally said one time, 'You need a haircut - we're going to the barber's, NOW,' in a tone that said no negotiation.
My mother came into the barber shop with me to wait and make sure I had my hair cut. It took about 40 minutes before my turn came and I stepped up and into the green barber chair.
With a swoosh, the barber draped a long yellow cape around my neck. I looked down at my feet and could just see the bottom of my jeans and my white-and-black adidas runners - the cape covered me from my neck down to my shins. He then folded a large piece of tissue around my neck & tightly fastened the cape. Then came a loud BUMP, BUMP, BUMP and I felt myself rising as the barber raised up the chair. I still didn't have a say in how to have my hair cut, and wouldn't have known what to say anyway. My mother simply told the barber, 'SHORT - about 2 inches off'.
I just looked down at my feet, feeling pretty silly as the barber sprayed down my hair & combed it out - all I could see in front of me was a thick wall of hair hanging down to the tip of my nose. My hair was dripping wet - little streams of water ran down the cape as the barber sprayed it, and I could feel the wet hair touching the nape of my neck.
The barber pulled my head up and began cutting the sides. I could see the first big pieces of cut hair falling on the cape, and the sounds of snip-snip-snip were the only ones I heard while the scissors cut away my long, thick locks. I sat in the chair without saying anything, thinking, 'What's going to be left when I step out of this chair ?'
This barber shop didn't have mirrors in front of the chairs, so you wouldn't know how you looked until the barber turned you around to show you the back, as well as the rest of you. I didn't mind - I preferred not to see myself while my hair was being cut. It was enough for me to see my thick, silky locks falling on the cape around my neck.
After cutting the front & back, the barber spun the chair around so that I faced the mirror. I got a long look at myself, with a yellow cape & tissue around my neck, and so much of my hair in pieces on the cape. For a second, I didn't recognize myself. And the barber wasn't done yet - he began cutting the top, pulling my hair up in rows and cutting pieces away. Then the chair was spun round again, so my back was to the mirror as the barber took a razor to my sideburns.
My mother got up & walked over to the chair. 'Much better', she told the barber. 'That'll last at least through the summer', he replied as he unfastened the back of the cape. I heard the whirrr of the shaving cream dispenser and then felt it on the back of my neck. The barber then gave me a neck shave, which actually felt OK - the only good part of the haircut, I thought. He spun the chair around again & showed me the back of my head. It had been taken down to about 1" in the back and only a bit more on the top. I'm not going to live THIS one down at school, I thought, even though there was only 1 week left before summer vacation. The next thing I knew, the barber had dusted off my neck, removed the tissue, and pulled the cape away. I stepped out of the chair, just glad it was finally done.
Fortunately, the torment at school that usually follows a boy's haircut was short-lived. The barber was right - that haircut lasted almost 10 weeks before it would need cutting again. Four years later I would change barber shops, and then actually began to like having my hair cut. That's another story - coming soon!