The day I decided to trim my Sideburns
By Bumpered
I’ll
never forget the day I decided to trim my sideburns. It started off just like
any other Sunday morning. I slept long and while I enjoyed my first coffee I
read the newspaper. After that I headed to the bathroom for a shower and a
shave. That’s when everything went awry.
I jumped
into the shower. One of the few pleasures I have with my busy schedule is my
Sunday morning shower. I like it hot and I stay there at least 20 minutes. By
the time I get out, my beard is soft enough to shave. This fateful morning I
stood in front of the bathroom mirror with my comb in my hand waiting for the
steam to disappear from the mirror. Finally I ran it through my hair, pulling it
all back off my face getting ready to shave.
Usually
I get my hair cut regularly at a salon near work. Recently I’ve been involved
in a new project that has kept me busy six days a week. When I did have time,
there were always more important things to be done. My hair had never been
especially short. I hadn’t had it cut in about four months. I just combed it
back off my face with some gel to keep it in place. My sideburns had always been
longer than the rest of the crowd. They had always been my one rebellious
feature. When I looked at myself in the mirror I realized they were way too long
and way too bushy for me. With it being Sunday, I knew I couldn’t get to the
salon and even if I did I didn’t have an appointment. They needed at least 10
days notice.
My
options at that point were to wait another ten to twelve days or trim them
myself. I thought it couldn’t be that hard to do. Even if I made an
appointment there was no guaranty that I’d be able to keep it. So I decided to
give it a go. I started to rummage through the bathroom cupboards looking for
scissors to use. All I found were the curved nail scissors. I thought about the
kitchen, but I knew there were only large ones and poultry shears. Was this the
first sign that maybe I should wait? I finally thought about the sewing kit my
mother had given me when I moved out. In it there were small, pointed scissors.
Perfect!
Now I
stood with the scissors and comb in my hand in front of the mirror trying to
figure out where to begin. I’d always had them trimmed when I got my hair cut.
My sideburns now reached about an inch below my ear. When they were freshly
trimmed they reached to just above the base of my ears. I figured I have to lose
about an inch and a half in all. Being right handed I started of the left side.
I did exactly what the stylists did. I combed my hair down over my left ear. The
ear was covered completely. Without a moments hesitation I sliced the scissors
straight across at what I thought was an inch and a half. A clump of wet hair
rolled down my face and clung to the stubble of my beard. The bottom third of my
left ear was now open to the public. I started to whack away freehand the rest
of the hair that grew below the new line I had just defined. I think I got
things confused. Maybe the stylists didn’t start the way I had done. When I
was finished it looked very strange. The bushiness was even more noticeable now.
I had to thin out the sideburn – easier said than done!
I
started thinning freehand a snip here, a snip there. One snip was shorter than
the other, so I had to snip more off. Well, when I decided enough was enough the
left side was definitely cropped short. I thought I done pretty good work for a
beginner. I’d clipped the left side burn to the top of my ear. At one point I
stopped cutting the hair covering my ear. Now two thirds of my ear was
uncovered. There was a definite line where my sideburn stopped and my hair
started. I would deal with that later when I’d finished with the right side. I
went at the right side the same way I did with the left. I had trouble holding
the scissors and keeping my coordination in the mirror. I whacked and snipped
and cropped the right sideburn down.
When I
thought the deed was done I looked at my work in the mirror. Not bad at all,
they weren’t the same length though. The hair covering the ears looked
different too. I decided it was time to shave and then I could straighten them
up. I rubbed my beard with shaving cream getting it really soft and foamy. In
honour of the occasion I used a fresh razor blade too. I started shaving as I
always do under my nose and around my mouth working toward the sides.
When I
got to the sideburn on the left side there was so much foam that I couldn’t
see where to shave. Instead of wiping off the foam I cut straight in and missed
my line by about half an inch. The left side had been shorter to start with.
When I moved onto the right side I did the same thing. Off it came this time a
half inch higher than the left one. I rinsed my face and looked at my work.
I was
disappointed. The left side was longer than the right. The right sideburn was
just a bit longer than mid ear. I started to shave away more of the left one and
it turned out shorter than the right. This went on and on. I finally made the
decision to shave them off completely. I had had my sideburns since I was 18.
This was like losing a toe for me.
To make
matters worse while shaving the right one off, I accidentally cut into the
hairline on my right side. I eventually stopped, evening them out at about a
half inch above my hairline. I was very proud that I’d been able to even them
out. I felt strange without them though. I started to dry my hair. That’s when
I noticed that I had cut much too high into my hairline and that the hair
covering my ears was uneven. With gel it still looked pretty pathetic.
This is
where bad goes to worse. I decide that I had to cut the sides too. I had never
worn my hair shorter than mid-ear. I wet my hair again. I combed the hair
straight down over the ears. Taking a deep breath and with a rather unsteady
hand, I chopped off the hair that covered my left ear following the new hairline
that had been created. I used the small scissors and cut straight back. It never
occurred to me that I should cut it in an arc. Hell, I as a beginner. Well I
really screwed up. I had cut right into the longer hair in the back. Now I had a
hole. This was getting complicated. I tried my best to fix it, but it just
didn’t work. The left and right sides were different lengths. There was a huge
chunk missing behind my left ear that I tried to fix by sculpting a canyon out
of its hole. All in all I looked a mess. I capitulated.
I decide
to drive into town and see if there wasn’t a salon open somewhere. I needed
professional help. I pulled on a baseball cap and went in search of a follicle
repair specialist.
I drove
around for about an hour. Nothing was open. Even the mall was closed. Just as I
turned onto Pine Street I saw a barbershop that was open. I hadn’t considered
going t a barber before. I hoped the barber would be able to help. I pulled the
car up to the shop. It was an old-fashioned one with a spinning red and white
pole. The lettering above the door was weathered and peeling. It read “Joe’s
Barbershop”. In the window the there was a hand written sign announcing
“Come in, we’re open!”
From my
car I could see the barber sitting in his chair reading a book while waiting for
a customer. I decided I had no
other choice. I had to ask the barber for help. As I got out of the car, I saw
the barber look up from his book. He watched me approach the door as if he were
used to people being indecisive about getting a haircut at Joe’s. When I
opened the door he greeted me warmly, but he remained seated waiting for me to
state my business. I told him that I needed his help. Joe smiled and got up out
of his chair. He was a big man, six-foot-five at least. He had hair grey hair
cropped close to his scalp. I still had my baseball cap on when I got into the
chair. Joe had me facing the mirror when I took it off. At this point he was
fastening the neck tape and cape around me. I saw his expression and knew that I
had really screwed up this time.
Joe took
a comb through the shambles I had brought him. He listened patiently as I told
my tale and nodded sympathetically when I asked if he could help. He spoke to my
reflection in the mirror. He told me that I had he couldn’t really repair
anything that I’d damaged, but he could cut it very short on the sides and the
back so that the no one would be any wiser. I could just tell everyone I decided
to go short for a change. I had no choice. I told him to do what ever he had to
do. It was the price I had to pay.
There
were several clippers hanging from hooks. Joe picked out one pair and a blade
out of an open drawer. As the clippers sprang to life Joe swung the chair away
from the mirror. I wasn’t able to see what was going to happen. I guess it was
another price I had to pay. Joe pushed my head to the side and ran the clippers
up over the new hairline I had created. He cut high into the hair that I
hadn’t touched. I watched the remnants of my hair fill my lap. Joe slowly
moved around my head. I could now feel a coolness brush across my scalp. Several
times Joe changed the blades on the clippers. It seemed to take forever.
Joe
finally put the clippers back on their hook. Then with scissors and a comb he
reduced my long hair on top to a short crop of about an inch and a half. Using
hot lather spread high around my ears and my neck, Joe swiftly shaved a two-inch
wide band around my ears and the neck. A different set of clippers and comb were
used to blend the shaved area with the area he’d already clipped. At the end
he rubbed some wax in to the top and brushed everything into place. The moment
came when Joe turned me back toward the mirror. I was shocked at what I saw. It
wasn’t me. It was some other guy, much younger than me.
Joe
addressed my reflection. He asked what I did for a living. I told him that I’m
a software developer. He nodded. He asked whether I repaired my own car or did
my own plumbing. I said that I didn’t because I don’t know how. He said that
from now on I should leave haircuts and sideburn trimming to professionals only.
I guess I should have known that from the start since I’m not the handiest
person around the house.
Since
then I’ve kept my hair short, not as short as Joe’s first cut, but short. My
sideburns have grown back and I visit Joe regularly on Sundays to keep things
trimmed. I’ve learned my lesson.
The
End