My Wife tries a Horseshoe
By JimB ©opyright July 2001
I’ve been bald since middle school and my wife’s never seen me with even a trace of hair.
We’d been married almost ten year when she began asking if I’d ever thought of growing my hair back.
“No, not really,” I answered. “Why?”
“Just wondering,” she commented. “You’ve been bald since like forever and I was just wondering if you ever regretted not having hair.”
“It’s just that this is how my hair is,” I replied. “Why brings this up all of a sudden?”
“I’ve been thinking about getting my hair cut short lately,” she said.
“Lately!” I said. “How long have has this been going on?”
“A couple of years,” she replied.
“How short have you thought of going?” I asked her.
“Not bald, surly!”
“Well, like a crew cut, maybe a flat top, or something short like that,” she answered questioningly.
“I’ve seen women with short cuts sort of like that.
“It’s not that odd.
“If that this what you’re really thinking?”
“I just want to try it out.
“With the summer here and they’re predicting a hot one. Maybe now would be the time,” she said.
Her light blond hair was down past her shoulders.
So, this would be a big step for her.
“When do you want to do this?
“Now!” I asked her.
“Now, would be fine,” she replied. “It’s eight on a Saturday morning.
“We were both off for the weekend.”
“Well, if you’re thinking of a flat top or crew cut, you should probably go to a barbershop,” I said.
“Can you shorten up my hair before we go?” she asked.
“Cut it to around three inches.
“So, there isn’t so much of deal at the barbers?”
I got the scissors and carefully cut her hair.
It was tough for me, as I’ve always thought she had amazing hair.
I’d comb a section of hair outward to about three inches and cut the rest off. It didn’t take that long and to my amazement my wife never gave a hint at crying.
I’d ask her if she was okay.
And, she would say, “Fine.”
When I was done she kind of looked more like a guy than my wife.
She looked at herself in the mirror and brushed the loose hairs away.
“Not bad,” she said. “Kind of manly, don’t you think?”
“I was thinking it.
“But, I certainly wasn’t going to say it.” I told her.
She changed into a pullover shirt and pair of jeans and we left.
There was a traditional barbershop not far from our house.
It was a nice day and she suggested we walk and enjoy the weather.
We saw one of our neighbors and for a second she didn’t recognize her.
But, she liked the shorter look.
The barbershop was about a forty minutes walk from our home.
It was eleven o’clock when we got there and the shop was deserted except for the old barber who was sitting in a the chair.
“Missed the Saturday morning rush,” he said.
He looked at me and said, “I’m assuming there’s nothing I can do for you.”
Then, he looked at my wife.
“Can I help you?” he asked her.
“Yes,” she said and sat in his big leather chair.
He caped her and fluffed up her hair a bit.
“I have a few women who come in here,” he mentioned.
“Now, I only use the clippers.
“So, what can I do for you?”
“I want it short,” she told him.
“Like a flat top.”
“Have you had it short before?” he inquired of her.
“Not really,” she replied, as she got more comfortable.
“But, I’m very anxious to go short. I was thinking of a crew cut or maybe a flat top.”
“Flat tops are my specialty,” he replied quickly.
“I do a great horseshoe. I do a lot of them.”
“What’s a horseshoe?” she asked.
I could tell my wife was nervous but committed to this.
“It’s a type of flattop, where the hair in the front and the sides forms a horseshoe, like a big “U”,” he told her.
“The rest is taken right down and real short.”
“Okay,” she said. “That sounds worth a try.”
“Now, everything but the shoe part is gone,” he told her.
“GONE, like nothing there.
“You understand that?”
I started to tell her what he was saying, “everything but the shoe part is gone”.
She slowly nodded, looking at herself in the mirror.
“What?” she said to him.
“I was distracted, just thinking about something.
“I don’t mind short. That’s why I’m here.”
“Okay,” he said reaching for a pair of silver clippers and stood behind her.
She was facing the mirror so she could see everything.
He placed the clippers at the top of her head, about two inches behind her hairline, and started buzzing back over her head.
To my surprise she did not jump when he clicked the clippers on, nor where he placed the clippers.
Not even when he buzzed the strip to the back of her head.
I was a little concerned about what I saw, specially the white strip to her scalp.
He continued this way, going from front to back and from back to the front, until the inside of the horseshoe was three inches wide and buzzed to her scalp.
He then began buzzing the back and sides of her head to the scalp forming the “horseshoe” shape. Finishing the front of her head with a slight curving.
Then, he trimmed that some.
Putting some cream on it and combed it to stand up on edge.
Then, he worked on it with clippers and a comb, making the “horseshoe” was flat across the top.
With the “horseshoe” being half an inch high all around.
Then, he took the little clippers and worked blending the little hair that was left into a defined the “horseshoe” of hair.
Then, he started lathering everywhere he buzzed her.
She was surprised when he started. She looked at me.
“He told you “everything but the shoe part is gone”,” I told her as he was stropping his straight razor.
“Gone is gone.”
She shrugged her shoulders and sat looking at me as he shaved her head.
It took very little effort to blend the bald into the short hair that transitioned to the horseshoe.
When he was done, he wiped her scalp with a soft cloth.
Powdered her neck and took the cape off.
He turned her around to the mirror behind the barber chair so she could get a better and closer look at her hair cut.
I got up and went over.
Except for the horseshoe, my wife was bald.
She was more than a bit surprised.
But, she smiled.
“Well, I did want to try it short,” she said.
“And, this is really short, right?”
“What do you think,” he asked her, using a mirror to show her the back of her bald head.
“Well, it’s very different,” she said.
“And, it’ll take a bit getting use to.
“But, it’s not bad”.
She looked over at me, “What do you think?”
“It’s different, I told her.
“But, I think you look pretty good with it.”
“Flattop’s a great summer time haircut,” the barber said to her.
“You can get it touched up every Saturday for half price.
“Only takes a few minutes.”
My wife kept rubbing the side of her head, “I must admit, I like how this feels.”
I paid the barber and we left.
“What do you really think,” she asked again as we started our walk back home.
“I could get used it,” I told her.
“But, I really can’t say anything.
She kept rubbing the sides and back.
“I’m going to keep it, you know,” she told me.
“Just for the summer.”
“I think I’ll take him up on his half-price offer for the summer.”
“Well, get some sun on it,” I mentioned. “A little color and it’ll look fine.”
She never wore a hat and used sunscreen all summer and developed a nice tan.
We would walk to and from the barber shop every Saturday morning.
The barber was surprised went we walked in a week later.
He motioned her to his chair.
After she was comfortable he lathered and shaved the “Horseshoe”.
“I can do you, too,” he mentioned to me.
She just told him, “I take care of him.”
Every two weeks the barber would take the clippers, or the comb and scissors, and touched up the horseshoe.
Come August I stopped going with her to the barbershop for her weekly touchups.
When September came around, she kept going for her touchups.
One night I asked her if she was going to keep her hair that way.
“Well, it’s easier than the shampoo, condition, blow-dry, curling iron routine,” she told me.
“Even with the weekly touchups.
“It’s still cheaper than going to get my hair done at a salon.
“Between highlights and everything else they do, it’s gotten crazy.
“So, yeah, I’m going to keep it.
“Maybe, I’ll give the complete shave a try!”
I looked at her with a smile.
“But, we’ll have to wait until that day comes,” she said with a smile and winked.
“And, we both can get the same hair cut!”
The warm months slowly turned to chilly months and I thought she would let the “horseshoe” grow out some.
But, she kept going for the touch ups every Saturday. I even went with her and sat with amazement as the barber lathered her horseshoe and shave her head.
Even some of his regular customers got to know her. One Saturday one of his other female customers asked her “why she got her hair cut “like that” and how did she like it”.
She smiled and did not waste any time in telling her. Even telling her, it was her who choose the “horseshoe” instead of the flat-top.
Other female customers just shook their head in disbelief when she sat in the barber chair and the barber shaving her head.
Then, the chilly but cold months slowly turned to warmer months. Snow became rain, lots of rain.
Somehow she made her regular visit to the barber shop and her regular touch-up.
Each time she came home and stood in front one of the mirrors and looked at her self.
Turning her head from side to side, even brushing her finger tips over where the barber had shaved her.
A few times I walked into our bathroom and she was holding one of our safety razor and pretending she was shaving around the horseshoe.
Then, we both came down with a touch of the “flu” and had to spend two weeks home and in bed.
Neither of us was up to doing anything except taking the medicine the doctor gave us.
She was not able to shave my head!
She would lie brushing her fingers over the back, sides, and on top of her head.
Nor was I.
She would move her fingers in a shaving motion over my head.
She even missed two Saturdays touchup at the barber shop.
It was a Monday when the doctor gave us the “all clear” of the flu.
When we walked out his office, she asked me “what I wanted to do?”.
“Some solid food for one,” I told her.
“What do you want to do first?”
As we walked to our car, she walked thinking.
When we got the car she quickly said, “I am driving.”
I shrugged my shoulders and got in the passenger side and asked her again, “What do you want to do first?”
She said nothing but drove off. She said nothing when I looked at her, with a questioning look.
Then, she drove pass our house.
She reached over and patted my left leg, “Where else would I want to go!”
“It’s been two weeks for both of us.”
I looked at her smiling, as her right hand raised to my head.
With a smile she brushed her right hand over my head, “This has to come off.
“And, I want to watch, instead of shaving.”
I smiled, “Okay with me.”
When we reached the barber shop there were no cars in the parking lot.
There was no “CLOSED” sign in the window.
We got out, she kind of ran to the door, “Joe is here and he is sitting in his barber chair.”
She opened the door wide and walked it, with me a step behind her.
“Well, look who’s here,” he said as he got out his chair and began shaking his barber cape.
“FLU, I bet!”
“Yet, two weeks,” she said as she pushed to the barber chair.
“I want to watch this one, instead of shaving.”
Joe caped me, as she sat in one waiting chair, right in front of the barber chair.
He wasted no time with the clippers.
She smiled as her eyebrows moved up and down.
With the towel spread over my shoulders, I heard a ‘clinging’ sound.
Her eyes widened with one of those “WHAT THE!” expressions.
I turned to my right and Joe was standing there with a shaving mug and brush working up lather.
“The dispenser is broke and the new one will not be here until next week,” he told us.
“So, it is back to the old way.”
He began lathering my head with the brush. It brought back thoughts to the day I started shaving my head.
The barber used the same thing.
As he began lathering the back of my head, she looked at me with a wicked smile and asked, “Feels good!”
I smiled, “Not like your fingers!”
Joe nudged my left shoulder as he lathered the left side of my head.
He stropped the straight razor and began shaving my head.
I watched her eyes following his movements with the razor.
“NO, not like when you shave me,” I quickly told her.
She laughed and shook her head, “Mind reader!”
As I stepped from the chair she was standing there. Her hand raised to my head and she brushed over my shaved head with her fingertips.
“I’ll do it when we get home,” she said and stepped in the barber chair.
As Joe caped her, he asked, “HORSESHOE?”
She looked at me and smiled another wicked smile.
“SHORTER,” she told him.
“A lot shorter.”
Joe looked at her with a questioning look. I looked at her with a questioning look, too.
He reached for the clippers he had just buzzed my head with.
He turned them on and walked to the right side of the chair.
He stood there, as she turned her head towards him, “A LOT SHORTER THIS TIME ALL AROUND.”
“Quick or slow?” he inquired.
“Slow,” she replied and turned her head forward and looked me with that wicked smile.
“And, A LOT SHORTER THIS TIME ALL AROUND.”
I must have miss something.
He raised the clippers to the right side of her head and began buzzing the right side.
Slowly he worked the clippers over the right side of her head.
Then, I saw ‘what is missed’.
I saw “A LOT SHORTER THIS TIME ALL AROUND”.
As he placed the clippers at her forehead, where he had just buzzed to, and slowly moved it back over her head.
“No HORSESHOE this time,” she said to me.
“Like told you when I got the “horseshoe”,
“Maybe, I’ll give the complete shave a try!”
“But, we’ll have to wait until that day comes.
“And, we both can get the same hair cut!”
“Well, that day has come.”
I sat up. I did not really think she meant it back then. She has always like playing with me on things.
I sat back, like she did, and watched Joe slowly buzz her head.
Finished with buzzing her head, she quickly told me, “YES, it did feel great.
“I am very glad “that day has come”.”
Joe was wrapping a warm towel around her buzzed head.
“Joe,” she said. “Can WE still come for Saturday touchup!”
“i do not see any reasons why not,” he replied.
“Why did you ask?”
“Well,” she began her comment. “I just realized I like watching as must as I like shaving.”
Joe and I looked at each other.
“Don’t I have a says,” I inquired, knowing what her answer was going to be.
“NO,” she said with another wicked smile.
“I see the look on your face, now.
“It tells me you are enjoying the watching.”
I took a breath. In a way she was right. Rather I was wondering more.
He removed the warm towel and was standing on the right side of the chair working up lather in his shaving mug.
She glanced towards him. I saw her eyes slowly closing as she turned her head forward.
“NO,” I quickly said to her. “DO NOT CLOSE YOUR EYES.
“You have to watch Joe slowly lather and shave your head the first time.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Just keep them wide open,” I told her.
A smile, a wide smile came to her face as Joe slowly lathered and worked the lather over her head,
With head half lathered, she said, “Now I know why.”
“You will see even more when he shaves your head,’ I told her.
Joe just started shaking his head with each comment we made to each other.
“Sure hope you two do not act, or talk like this,” he told us.
“If you did, I am sure I will have my regular customers wondering what my barber shop has turned into.
She kept her eyes wide open as he shaved the back of her head. She started raising her head to the razor as she shaved the left side.
Finished, Joe stepped by back and looked her head over.
“I can shave you again?” he told her.
A big smile came to her as she looked at me, then Joe.
“No,” I told him. “I will give her a shaving when we get home.”
“Will I like it better?” she inquired.
“Let’s just say,” I began telling her.
“The shaving will be close, as will the shaver.”
“As close as it use to be?” she asked.
“Yes,” I told her. “And, as often as you wish!”
Joe stopped shaving her head and said, “Look will the two of you mind what you are saying and let me finish shave her head.”
He waited a little then went back to shaving her head.
We smiled at each other and Joe finished shaving her head.
Finished. He wiped the excess lather and dusted her head with some sweet smelling powder.
I started to pay him.
“NO,” he said pushing the money back. “This one is on me.”
We looked at each other, told him thank you.
“Can we still come back for Saturdays touchups?” she asked.
“Sure,” Joe told us.
“I do not take appointments. You come, sit, wait your turn, and I shave both of you.
“And, leave everything home, or at least until you get home.
“Well,” she told him and gave him a little kiss on the right cheek.
I opened the door, “The sun is shining nicely.
“Do you have any sunscreen?
“We can go pass the drug store and pick some up!”
“HOME, Edward,” she commanded pointing to the passenger side of the car.
She opened it and I started to get in.
“NO,” she told me as she stepped in the doorway.
I let her step in the doorway and gave her a kiss on her shaven head.
She took a short step backward, “Will the shaver be standing this close!”
“I am sure the shaver will be standing that close,” I replied. “Even closers if he can?”
“And, will I feel the shaver?” she asked as she pushed back against me.
“As often as you want,” I told her. “And, when ever you want.”
We got in the car and drove home.
Home to shave each other.
By JimB ©opyright July 2001