straightrazor
Shelly had owned her downtown barber shop for years.
It was a traditional shop with two barber chairs facing large mirrors. Clippers, foil shavers, straight razors, combs, brushes, and towels were arranged neatly along the counter.
Anyone meeting Shelly for the first time usually noticed her haircut.
She wore a dark bob. From the front, it looked fairly conventional, framing her face and falling toward her jawline.
The surprise was underneath.
Both sides were undercut, and the back was shaved high enough that Shelly’s nape was completely exposed. Whenever she lifted the bob, there was a dramatic transition from the longer hair to the extremely close buzz underneath.
Shelly kept it that way for a reason.
She loved clippers.
She loved using them, hearing them, and especially feeling them against her own scalp.
Her undercut wasn’t simply a hairstyle. It gave Shelly an excuse to regularly experience the sensation she enjoyed so much.
Whenever the slightest amount of stubble appeared at her nape, Shelly noticed it. Sometimes she could barely make it a week before deciding it was already too long.
She would sit in the other barber’s chair, lift her bob and say, “Take it back down.”
“You just had it done,” the other barber would say.
“I can feel it growing,” Shelly would answer.
Then the clippers would switch on.
That first vibration against the bottom of her nape was always Shelly’s favorite part.
She would lower her chin and sit perfectly still while the clippers traveled upward through the tiny amount of regrowth.
Sometimes she had the undercut finished with a foil shaver.
That was even better.
Afterward, Shelly loved running her hand underneath the bob and feeling virtually nothing there.
Smooth. Cool. Freshly shaved.
Her fascination extended beyond her own haircut.
Shelly specialized in extremely short women’s cuts and head shaves. A woman walking into the shop and asking to have her head shaved could completely change Shelly’s mood.
She loved the entire process.
The white neck strip.
The cape.
The clippers coming off the hook.
The first pass.
The sudden strip of exposed scalp.
Then another pass beside it.
And another.
Shelly had performed enough head shaves that none of the mechanics were unusual anymore.
The fascination simply never went away.
If anything, it had become stronger.
When a woman with exceptionally long hair walked past the front window, Shelly sometimes caught herself imagining that woman sitting in her chair.
She wondered what all that hair would look like falling across the cape.
She wondered what shape the woman’s head would have underneath it.
She wondered what the reaction would be when clippers crossed the top for the first time.
Shelly knew those were her thoughts.
They weren’t permission to do anything.
So she kept them to herself.
That Friday afternoon, Shelly was standing at her station when her phone rang.
She looked at the screen.
Claire.
Shelly smiled and answered.
“Hey, Claire,” Shelly said.
“Are you busy?” Claire asked.
“Not really,” Shelly said. “Why?”
“I was thinking about coming down.”
“You need a haircut?”
“No,” Claire said immediately.
Shelly laughed.
“I didn’t even say what kind.”
“I know you.”
“Then why are you calling a barber?”
“Because you’re also my friend.”
“Unfortunately,” Shelly said.
Claire laughed.
“I haven’t seen you forever.”
“Come down,” Shelly said. “I’m here.”
About forty minutes later, the bell above the front door rang.
Shelly looked up.
There was Claire.
The contrast between the two women was almost ridiculous.
Shelly had her bob with the closely shaved undercut hidden beneath it.
Claire had hair.
A tremendous amount of hair.
Claire’s dark-brown hair was exceptionally thick and extraordinarily long. She had gathered all of it into a high, tight ponytail that fell far down her back.
Shelly stared.
Claire stopped several feet inside the shop.
“Don’t,” Claire said.
Shelly smiled.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You’re looking at my ponytail.”
“I’m a barber.”
“You’re Shelly.”
“That too.”
Claire walked over and hugged her.
Shelly hugged Claire back.
They had known each other since college. Back then, they had spent enormous amounts of time together. Life had eventually taken them in different directions, but whenever they got together, it didn’t take long for the old friendship to return.
When they separated, Shelly immediately reached behind Claire and picked up the ponytail.
“Good Lord,” Shelly said. “This thing has gotten heavier.”
“You say that every time you see me.”
“Because you keep growing it.”
Claire took the ponytail from Shelly’s hand.
“And you’re not shaving it.”
“I haven’t even offered.”
“You were thinking about it.”
Shelly grinned.
Claire pointed at her.
“See?”
Shelly laughed.
“Sit down.”
Claire took a waiting chair while Shelly returned to work.
For the next several hours, Claire stayed at the shop.
They talked between customers about family, work, old friends, and things that had happened years earlier.
Every so often, Claire caught Shelly looking at her ponytail.
“Stop looking at it,” Claire finally said.
Shelly was sweeping around her chair.
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“You walk into my barber shop with three feet of hair hanging off the back of your head,” Shelly said. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Leave it attached.”
Shelly laughed.
“That seems unnecessarily restrictive.”
Eventually, the final customer left.
Shelly locked the front door and turned the sign to CLOSED.
Now it was just the two of them.
Claire stretched and reached behind her neck.
“My head is killing me,” Claire said.
Shelly immediately looked at the ponytail.
“That thing?”
“Probably.”
“You pull it too tight.”
“I like it tight.”
Shelly walked behind Claire and lifted the ponytail.
It was remarkably heavy.
“You carry this around all day?”
“Every day.”
“And then complain that your neck hurts?”
“Every day.”
Shelly dropped it.
“I have a solution.”
“No.”
Shelly laughed.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“I know exactly what your solution is.”
Shelly reached underneath her own bob and rubbed the freshly shaved nape.
“This?”
Claire laughed.
“Exactly that.”
Shelly smiled.
“You have to admit I don’t complain about my hair being heavy.”
“You barely have hair on half your head.”
“Efficient.”
Claire shook her head.
Shelly looked at her for another moment.
“Come here,” Shelly said.
“Why?”
“I’ll wash it for you.”
Claire looked interested.
“Seriously?”
“Sure.”
“You’re not cutting anything?”
Shelly raised both hands.
“Nothing gets cut unless you tell me it gets cut.”
Claire stood.
“Then absolutely.”
She followed Shelly to the shampoo station.
Claire sat down and leaned back.
Shelly removed the elastic securing the high ponytail.
Claire’s hair released.
The enormous dark-brown mass poured backward into the basin.
Shelly stopped for a moment.
Even she hadn’t realized quite how much hair Claire had.
Claire noticed her expression.
“Shelly.”
“Yeah?”
“Remember what you just promised.”
Shelly smiled.
“I remember.”
Shelly turned on the water and tested the temperature against her wrist.
Then she began soaking Claire’s hair.
She worked carefully through the enormous amount of it, lifting sections so the warm water could reach underneath.
Then came the shampoo.
Shelly massaged it across Claire’s scalp.
Claire immediately relaxed.
“Oh, that’s good,” Claire said.
“You like that?”
“Very much.”
Shelly continued massaging across the crown, along the temples, behind Claire’s ears and toward the nape.
Claire’s shoulders gradually relaxed.
“Don’t stop,” Claire said.
“I wasn’t planning to.”
Shelly rinsed the shampoo and worked conditioner through the long lengths.
After another rinse, she wrapped Claire’s hair in a towel.
“I needed that,” Claire said.
“You’re not finished.”
Shelly brought Claire back to the barber chair.
She removed the towel and started brushing from the ends, gradually working upward.
Claire closed her eyes again.
“Keep doing that,” Claire said.
“You really are easy to entertain.”
“I’ve been taking care of my own hair forever,” Claire said. “It’s different when somebody else does it.”
Once Claire’s hair was dry, Shelly continued playing with it.
She braided it.
Then she removed the braid.
She created a center part.
Then she brushed the part away.
Finally, she gathered everything into another high, tight ponytail.
Claire smiled as Shelly tightened it.
“There,” Claire said. “That’s how I like it.”
Shelly looked at the enormous ponytail.
“Until your neck starts hurting.”
“Exactly.”
Claire rolled her shoulders again.
“This is what drives me crazy,” Claire said. “I love having long hair. I just hate the weight and all the work.”
“The washing?”
“Yes.”
“The drying?”
“Absolutely.”
“The brushing?”
“Sometimes.”
“The weight?”
Claire rubbed her neck.
“Definitely.”
Shelly picked up the ponytail.
Claire watched her through the mirror.
“I’m serious, Shelly. I’d give you just about any amount of money if you could take care of the problem without ruining my hair.”
Shelly let the ponytail fall.
“There really isn’t a magic answer,” Shelly said. “If the hair is what’s causing the weight, eventually you have to remove some hair.”
“I knew you were going to say that.”
“That doesn’t mean shaving your head.”
Claire gave her a suspicious look.
Shelly smiled.
“Look at mine.”
Shelly turned around and lifted the back of her bob.
Claire could clearly see the closely buzzed undercut and Shelly’s completely exposed nape.
“You could do something like this,” Shelly said. “Keep a nice bob but take all the bulk out underneath. It would weigh practically nothing compared to what you have now, it would be easy to take care of, and it could still be sexy.”
Claire reached up and rubbed Shelly’s shaved nape.
“You really do keep this ridiculously short.”
“I like it short.”
“You like the clippers.”
“I love the clippers.”
Claire laughed.
“I know.”
Shelly lowered her bob.
“And there’s another advantage.”
“What’s that?”
“You’d have to come back.”
Claire laughed.
“For what?”
“You can’t have an undercut like mine and just forget about it,” Shelly said. “You’d have to come in every couple of weeks and let me buzz it back down.”
Claire smiled.
“So this is secretly your plan to make me visit you more often?”
“Maybe partly,” Shelly said. “We used to hang out constantly in college. Now I’m lucky if I see you every few months.”
Claire’s expression softened.
“That is true.”
“I miss it,” Shelly said. “I miss hanging out with you.”
“I miss it too.”
Shelly picked up Claire’s ponytail again.
“So there you go. Less weight, less work, and every couple of weeks you have to come bother me.”
Claire laughed.
“You’ve really thought this through.”
“I’m a professional.”
“You’re obsessed with clippers.”
“That too.”
Shelly reached beneath her own bob and rubbed her shaved nape.
Claire immediately noticed.
“You can’t even talk about an undercut without touching yours.”
Shelly smiled.
“Because it feels good.”
Claire looked at Shelly’s haircut in the mirror.
Then she looked at her own enormous ponytail.
For the first time, she didn’t immediately dismiss the possibility.
“I don’t know,” Claire said.
“You don’t have to know tonight,” Shelly said.
Claire looked at the clock.
“You know what we should do?”
“What?”
“Go out.”
Shelly smiled.
“Tonight?”
“Why not? We haven’t done anything together in forever. Let’s get dinner and go have a couple drinks.”
Shelly thought about it for about two seconds.
“I’m in.”
Claire laughed.
“That didn’t take much convincing.”
“Actually,” Shelly said, looking at Claire’s ponytail, “I have an idea.”
“That usually worries me.”
Shelly turned toward the mirror and adjusted her bob.
“Let’s see who gets more attention tonight.”
Claire laughed.
“You’re serious?”
“Absolutely.”
Claire grabbed her ponytail and pulled it over one shoulder.
“You honestly think you’re beating this?”
Shelly looked at the enormous ponytail.
Then she looked at herself in the mirror.
“I absolutely think I can.”
“You’re awfully confident.”
“I know exactly where we’re going.”
“Oh, really?”
“There is a bar not far from here,” Shelly said. “I’ve been there plenty of times.”
“And?”
Shelly lifted her bob enough to expose the shaved nape.
“This haircut does very well there.”
Claire burst out laughing.
“You’ve actually kept track?”
“I don’t have to keep track,” Shelly said. “People notice it.”
Claire stood from the chair.
“Okay. Long hair against your little buzzed head.”
“It’s a bob.”
“With half of it missing.”
“Undercut,” Shelly corrected.
Claire smiled.
“Whatever makes you feel better.”
Shelly reached beneath her bob and rubbed the short stubble at her nape.
“It feels great, actually.”
Claire shook her head.
“You really are obsessed.”
Shelly smiled.
She couldn’t argue with that.
A few minutes later, Shelly finished shutting down the shop.
Claire still had every inch of her extraordinarily long hair.
Shelly still had her bob and closely shaved undercut.
The haircut conversation was finished for tonight.
Instead, two old college friends were finally going out together again.
Shelly already knew exactly which bar she wanted to take Claire to.
She had gotten plenty of attention there before.
Tonight, with Claire and that enormous ponytail standing beside her, Shelly wanted to find out which one people noticed first.
