My Trip To The Barber Chair

My Trip To The Barber Chair

By JimB (C)opyright April 1991 

It was an unusually hot April the year when I turned twelve.

At our school you had to wear a short sleeved summer shirt and school flannel shorts until the end of March.

It was the eighth of April, my birthday.

My mom came to get me after school.

I had no idea why.  I usually went home on the school bus. 

I thought this was great a chance for us to talk a little.

She missed the turn off to our house.

I asked her, “Where we were going?”

She said, “We were going for a birthday treat.”

We eventually arrived at the burger bar.

We both had the ultimate burgers and shakes.

It was getting close to five o’clock and time to go.

I turned to go towards the car, when I was told we were stopping off at another shop first.

That shop was the town’s barber shop.

The red and white pole was turning and the barber shop appeared empty.

I asked, “Why are we going to the barber shop.”

“I am taking you for a hair cut,” she told me.

I hated having my hair cut.

In fact, I had managed to dodge a hair cut the last three times.

It was the early eighties and we all had long mop tops.

I had only had my hair trimmed at the hair salon mom went to.

My first thought was to run.

But, for some reason I simply followed I followed her. 

It turned out the barber shop was owned by Uncle Mark’s cousins Jen and Jim.

Jim was in his barber chair getting his head shaved by Jen.

They were both in their early twenties.

Apparently, Jen was enjoying shaving her brother’s head.

She looked at us in the mirror and said, “Have a seat.” 

She pointed to her barber chair.

Jen finally finished shaving Jim and had uncapped him. 

Jen asked mom, “Is it’s a summer buzz for her?” 

Mom just said, “All the way down.” 

I began to panic as Jen caped me.

I had never been in a barbers chair before. 

I became fidgety as Jen began brushing my hair on my neck and cape me.

“What did mom mean by, “All the way down”.

Jen picked up her clippers and they hummed.

She paused and asked, “Are you ready?”

“What did she mean by, “Are you ready?” I said to my self.

Mom nodded her head and Jen started pushing the clippers right down the middle of my head.

It was then I realized I were getting all my hair cut off.

Three passes and I had just a hint of hair on top of my head. 

As I sat staring in the mirror she made another pass right up the middle of my head to the crown and my hair fell to the floor.

She moved the clippers forward and hair fell in my lap.

I knew my blond locks were doomed.

Pass after pass, the more my head became lighter and lighter.

I couldn’t believe how short my hair was being cut, too.

Then, came the sides.

She pushed my head first to the right then to the left.

And, forward to take the hair at the back off.

I looked in the mirror as the clippers stopped. I had a skin head. 

She asked mom, “If she wanted me partly shaved.

.

She nodded.

She said, “A smooth shave.”

At first I hated mom, for making me get this hair cut.

She lathered my head and raised her straight razor for mom.

“A smooth shave,” mom told her.

Within fifteen minutes my head was shaved smooth.

Mom walked to the barber chair.  Her finger tips brushed over my shaved head.

It felt weirded.

But, for some reason I liked it.

I moved my finger tips to my head and brushed them over my shaved head.

I like the felling of the shaved head, skin.

What’s was more every weirded.

For the last four weeks of summer and winter, I willingly went to Jen and she shaved my head.

One time she even shaved my eyebrows.  This surprised mom.

So, I told Jen, “Mom loved the shaved eyebrows.”

From that day, when she shaved my head, she shaved over my eyebrows even if they did not need to be shave.

When I was sixteen, I was told it was up to me if I wanted to grow it out.

At first I did.

Then, on the first day of the summer I turned up at the barber shop 

for a change.

I saw Jen and didn’t recognize her at first she had.

Her shoulder blonde hair was shaved off.

She looked great.

I asked her to shave my head smooth.

She obliged and after spreading the lather on my head, she proceeded to shave my head smooth.

A hair cut I kept all summer long, before I grew it out. 

Was this the last shave I had?

Perhaps yes!

Perhaps no!