My Flattop ….. Part Two …..

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MY Flat-Top …… Part II
By JimB ©opyright April 2019

“You know …..

“To keep it looking great.”

I then realized what she was saying, “Ten day ……

“Sure, sounds okay.”

I walked out her barbershop, glancing back after a few steps, to see she was reading a magazine, waiting for her next customer, next victim.

Again, like I did coming to her barbershop, every time I stopped for a red light, I looked at my self in the rear view mirror and smiled.

Once, I even let out, “YOU DID IT”.

When I got home, I stood in front of my dresser staring at my self.

I blinked my eyes and each time I saw a woman, me, standing there with her hair cut short in a ‘flattop”.

I brushed the back and sides of my head, the shortness of the hair was something I did not expect.

But, Terri did warn me, even showing me with the clippers.

Even my eyes told me, as I watch Terri gave me the flattop, my flattop.

After a few minutes I laid down on my bed, the feeling was wonderful.

No long hair in my way when I turned my head.

I woke a few hours later.

I looked at my self in the dresser mirror, just to make sure I was not dreaming.

There I stood with the “flattop”.

Then, I got a crazy thought. One I had never thought of doing.

I took a shower, washing my head, my “flattop” felt so great.

I did not use as much shampoo as I use to.

As I dried off, it came to me, “A girl’s night out”.

I had not had one in years.

I wondered how other would look at me, a woman my age of sixty-two, with a “flattop”!

Would they, the men, the women, think I was a “butch”!

Would a man want to give me a roll in the hay!

I had to find out.

I put on my shortest skirt, my tightest blouse. I would not wear a bra.

I would let the “girls” show their self off. Let their brownness stiffen.

My shoes would be the same ones I wore for my haircut, for my flattop.

Within an hour I was out my house and on my way to find out what others thought of a woman, a woman my age, who had a “flattop”.

I arrived at the club some of the ladies talked about, even the men, at work.

“Take me or Leave me”, was the name. I wondered why such a name!

After parking in the parking lot, I started down the main street.

I began feeling strange.

There were not many people.

I looked at my watch. It was only seven.

I remember Callie saying, “Things did not get started until eight”.

I took the time and walked around in some of the shops, just looking.

No one looked.

I expected at least a few women would stare at me. Maybe a man, or two, would smile.


I started heading to the “Take me or Leave me” club. To see what this club was all about.

I hesitated at the corner and watched as a few people, men and women, enter the club.

A few walked by me, not taking notice.

After a few minutes, fifteen minutes, I entered the club. It was not as I thought it would be.

There were tables and chairs, a few booths.

A few people were sitting at the bar.

I looked around and found a seat at the bar.

I ordered a brandy, when the barmaid asked.

She just smiled.

Soft music began playing in the background.

After an hour, I began to wonder if I was in the wrong club.

I saw five women walk to the bathroom.

So, I got up and walked there, just to see what kind of reactions I would get.

As I walked in they were standing in front of the mirror, doing the usual.

Checking their make-up, their hair, the skirt and blouse, their dress.

When two of them back away from the mirror, I stepped in and started checking my self.

First, I combed my flattop, turning my head side to side, then my make-up.

I looked in the mirror and not one of them looked at me.

I walked out and started to leave.

But, something made me stop.

In a small space in front of me was a bumper pool table.

There was a young lady, in her mid twenties, playing games against the customers, mostly the men with a few women looking on.

I wondered over and stood watching.

There was a stool a few feet from the game. So, I sat on it.

It was then I noticed there were more women than men.

Maybe I was in the wrong club!

Then, I heard one of the ladies say, “When is your husband coming?”

“He and the others are having their meeting and will be here in an hour,” the lady replied.

After a half hour of watching, I started to get up.

“Want to try?” the soft voice asked, as a pool stick was handed to me.

It was the young lady who was playing the game.

“Never played in my life,” I told her.

She smiled, “Neither have many of the men, and women, who come in here when the conventions are in town.

“I become a teacher, showing them how to play.

“I get a kick out of the women.

“They make fun of their husband as he tries to win a game.

“I like challenging them.”

I took the pool stick, “Give me a short lesson.”

She told me how the game was played, showing how you hit the white ball off the sides so it could knock balls in a hold between two bumpers.

I took a few tries but could hardly get the balls to go around to the other side.

She walked behind me and showed me the trick.

I could feel her breathing on my shoulders and neck.

“You look great with the flattop,” she whispered to me.

“Haven’t seen a women with one since I got mine when I was fifteen.

“Boy did my mom hit the ceiling. I thought she was going to ground me for life.”

I stood up and looked at her, “What did she do?”

She smiled.

“Margret,” she said extending her right hand. “She made me keep it for two years.”

“Joyce,” I replied. “Fifteen …..

“Why did you get the flattop?”

“To piss her off,” she told me.

“And, You …..?”

“I have wanted one for years ……,” I replied.

“Since, I was seven really.”

“I got mine from my dad’s sister,” she told me.

“I went to little barber shop,” I said with a smile.

“I am sixty-two ……

“Terri’s Barber Shop.”

“Never heard of it,” Margret replied. “She did a great cut.

“Your first one!”

“First time in a barber shop, too,” I told her as I sat on the stool.

“What’s with the name of the club …..

“Take me or Leave Me.”

“The owner’s wife told him that when they met,” she said as she reached for the pool stick.

“So, this club is not one …..,” I asked her.

“NO,” she said. “If your’ thinking what I think you are thinking.”

“When I saw how many women there were here,” I tried to explain.

“Sometime we do get a few of them,” she mentioned. “But, they tend to leave after the wives and girlfriend start showing up.”

“Mind if I ask you a little personal question?” I asked her.

“Sure …. Shoot,” she replied.

“I know you said you were fifteen …..

“Did any of your friends think you were …..!”

“Butch,” she quickly replied. “Naaa ……

“I was screwing almost every boy I met.

“A few of them loved me with the flattop.

“One even followed me around school like a dog in heat.

“Had to ask my big brothers to talk with him.”

I watched her play a few games. She would hand the pool stick to a wife, if she was laughing at her husband because she was beating him.

I left around midnight telling Margret “good night” and it was nice meeting her.

“Coming back,” She inquired. “There won’t be a convention in town for the next two weeks!”

I smiled, “Any time around eightish?”

She smiled.

Not one man came up to me.

I liked the atmosphere of the club. Maybe I should come back on Friday and Saturday nights.

When I went to work Monday I got all the looks I did not get over the weekend.

I even got a, “What the hell did you do” from my boss.

He is usually exceptive to a lot of things.

But, I do not think he expected to see his Vice President and Manager of Shipping with a flattop, unless he was a he, not a “she”.

Many of the women just shook their head. One ever brushed her fingers through my flat-top, “Ooooo that feels nice!”

No one asked me why I got the flattop, not even the men.

Well, the week went well.

Ten days later, it was a Tuesday and quitting time was two for me.

So, instead of going home, I decide I would go straight to Terri’s Barber Shop for a haircut.

I got there a little before three and parked all most in front of her barbershop.

As I walked, this time without any hesitations, to the door I noticed she had a customer in her barber chair.

“Well, how are you doing?” she asked me as she continued cutting the man’s hair.

“Two ahead of you,” she said pointing to two young girls sitting in a waiting chair.

“MY neighbors daughters.”

I looked at them. They looked to be older than she told me.

Maybe it was because they were dressed more like ladies, not teenage girls.

She finished cutting the man his haircut, he paid and left with a “Have a great evening”.

Shaking her cape she called, “Nora, you’re first!”

She put the magazine down and walked to Teri’s barber chair.

With her caped Terri undid her hair and let it tumble free.

My eyes were caught off guard when I watched four feet of hair fall behind her.

Terri parted it, pushing half over each shoulder, so it would fall in the cape.

She turned and took the clippers from under the shelf.

Not saying a word Terri tilted her head downward and began pushing the clippers up the back of her head. After a few upward pushed Nora’s hair, four feet long, began sliding in her caped lap.

With the back clippered to the skin, Terri stepped to the right side of the chair and began moving the clippers over the top of her head sending four feet lengths of hair in to the cape.

I watched as Nora just sat smiling, looking at her sister.

Walking around the back of the barber chair Terri brushed her fingers of her right hand over the clippered area of Nora’s head.

Nora rocked her head back.

A few slow passes of the clippers and Nora’s head was buzzed extremely close to her head. She looked as if her head was already shaved.

With the clippers off, Terri hung it under the shelf. She turned and unpinned the cape and let it fall down over Nora’s lap.

Nora’s hands scooped up some of her four feet of hair and let it fall freely back into the cape.

Terri wrapped a warm white towel around her buzzed head.

The shaving dispenser came to life as warm shaving lather flowed into Terri’s left hand.

She turned ……

“Well, don’t you look great, Nora,” the lady said as she entered the barbershop.

My eyes caught a quick look at her. She had a long reddish Crew Cut.

“Hi, Zoe,” Terri said as she began lathering Nora’s head.

“Where is Bryan?” Nora asked her, the mom of the girls.

“Football practice,” she replied as she sat next to her other daughter, Eve.

“Joyce,” Terri said to me. “Make that three …..

“Sorry, I forgot mom was coming.”

“That’s all right,” I told her. “Tomorrow is my late day.

“I don’t have to be in until three tomorrow afternoon.”

“I can wait,” Zoe said. “You can go after Eve.”

“No, that’s all right,” I told her.

I looked at Eve, who was undoing her hair. She moved it through her hands.

It was almost as long as Nora’s.

She looked at me watching her do this.

“It’s a pain,” she told me as she waived some of it. “Specially when the boys come up behind me and pull on it.”

My attending went back to Terri’s barber chair and Nora sitting there, her head all lathered.

Terri stropped her straight razor.

Not asking she started shaving Nora’s head from the center of her head.

Nora just sat there, picking up a few stranges and dropping them back into the cape.

Terri did not take it slow. It was if she wanted to get Nora’s head shaved.

As she stepped behind the barber chair, Nora tilted her head. Terri placed the razor’s blade and shaved downward.

I glanced at her mom. She was thumbing through a magazine, with a glance at her daughter ever so often.

Eve just looked at her, smiling.

Before I got my thoughts together, Nora’s head shaving was over and she was stepping from the barber chair.

“Well, mom!” she said to her mom.

Her mom gave her a kiss and smiled, “Like I told you it would be?”

“Yep,” Nora replied as she walked and sat next to her mom.

“Eve,” Terri called.

She stood up, shook her head causing her long hair to fly around.

“Last time you will be doing that,” Terri told her as she sat in the barber chair.

Terri had her caped, clippers in hand ……


Eve tilted her head downward. Her hands pulled half to each side of her head, falling into her caped lap.

As she put her hands under the cape, Terri had pushed the clippers up the back of head.

Like her sister she sat smiling as the clippers were moved over her head, sending hair into her caped lap.

Terri, again, did not go slowly. It was as if she had wanted to do this to the girls.

I glanced a look at their mom. She was still looking through a magazine.

Nora was reading a book she had brought with her.

I looked for why!

But, all I saw was smiles, hair being buzzed off, and heads being shaved.

I would have a story to tell …..

Friday night.

But, would she believe me!

To be continued ……
JimB ©opyright April 2020

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