Frank
When Henry left home, he had completed his military service and had a place at university in his pocket. Back then, at the end of the seventies, long hair was widespread among men and he had to fight with his parents for every centimeter. He had wavy, thick blond hair and had discovered his interest in longer hair at the age of 12. It wasn’t just fashion and rebellion, longer hair was a fetish for him and it made him when he thought about going to the hairdresser. The longer, the better, even if he found her impractical and actually looked better with short hair. He first grew a quiff and his hair covered his ears before it became too much for his father, took him to cut his hair and he got a facon cut in tears. He then tried with all the tricks to avoid the next hairdresser appointments and so he managed to grow his hair almost to his shoulders and his bangs hung in several waves up to his chin and constantly blocked his vision. His father had had enough and tricked him, picked him up after school and he was shaved at the village hairdresser. By the time he graduated from high school, he had finally managed to reach shoulder length again. But then he was mustered and drafted into the army for 18 months. Long hair was not tolerated there and he voluntarily went to the hairdresser before being drafted so as not to be humiliated by the sergeants. It was an exciting feeling to imagine having your long hair trimmed to matchstick length before the haircut – the whole lap full of strands and then the hair massacre around the barber’s chair. And so it happened – his village hairdresser combed out his hair with joy and malice, shaved off all his hair down to under the collar and finally cut his chin-length quiff to 1 cm. After that, for better or worse, he went to him regularly during his military service.
That was now behind him, for he was of age and free to do what he wanted. He moved away from home and met his girlfriend Ellen, who was crazy about boys with long hair but only had thin hair herself, which she let grow as long as possible. When her hair reached her shoulders, it broke off and stopped growing. Henry’s hair, on the other hand, grew magnificently and rapidly and Ellen lovingly helped him with the care. In her opinion, he should never have his hair cut again. He allowed it and after five years he had grown a huge mat with a side parting, which reached over his buttocks at the back. His uncut wavy bangs now reached his belt and constantly blocked his vision, so that he had to clamp it behind his ears or fasten it with a clamp at the back of his head when he wore his mane open. His parents were horrified and tried to persuade him to cut his hair with money, but he refused and Ellen watched over every inch. When he thought about shortening his hair and talked to Ellen about it, an argument ensued. Finally, he threatened to approach her to the hairdresser and demonstratively stopped in front of barbershops. Ellen became more and more hysterical and controlled him incessantly.
When he broke up with Ellen, his hair stayed so long. He discovered traveling to distant countries. He visited Central America, North Africa and Southern Europe with his friend Jonas and planned a backpacking trip to Southeast Asia for three months. On the schedule were Thailand, Myanmar, Malaysia, Indonesia and Singapore. His old friend Jonas, who was very well-read and devoured travel guides, did most of the planning. The trip was supposed to start in 4 weeks and the flights were booked when Jonas showed up with a worried face. “Henry, we have a problem. Singapore denies entry to long-haired men!” Henry tucked his side parting behind his ear and could hardly believe it. ” The latest travel guide says that Singapore does not allow anyone with hair longer than their ears and collar to enter the country. You don’t want to see long-haired people in the city. With your ass-length hair you will either be rejected or you will have to get your hair cut first,” Jonas said. “I just don’t believe that! We can’t skip our flights because of Singapore. I’ll call the embassy and inquire,” Henry replied. He was shocked that he had to sacrifice his hair just to be allowed to spend a few days in Singapore. The travel guide featured a poster showing a young man with black hair over his ears and collar and explaining what Singapore meant by long hair. Underneath it was written: “Long-haired people are the last to be served!” These posters hung in every corner of Singapore to educate the locals. He called the embassy and an employee made it clear to him that they would absolutely not accept long-haired people in Singapore. However, the state is generous with tourists and you can get your hair cut for free at the border. That was bad news for his hair. The thought of being shaved by a grinning Chinese hairdresser with rusty scissors and a rattling, poorly oiled hair clipper before the border or at the airport made him shudder. He was desperate and didn’t know what to do. He met with Henry and hoped to find a solution. But Henry couldn’t give him any hope either: “You can cancel the trip to save your hair, of course, but all flights are paid for and we would lose our money completely. You can also take a chance, make yourself a braid and hide it as a bun under a cap, but I can’t imagine that the customs officers will fall for it. We can’t pass by on this trip around Singapore, you know that. Looking at you like this, you could use a haircut urgently. You can already sit on your hair and you can’t walk around without a ponytail and hair clip! Think about it, there are still 4 weeks until the trip.” Henry looked angrily at Jonas and thought of the past journeys. He had attracted attention everywhere with his super long blond hair and blue eyes and many local tourists wanted to have a photo with him. For these people, he was an exotic! It would be a shame if he were just one of many. The thought of having to go to the hairdresser excited him and didn’t let him go, even in his dreams. His hair was his trademark and he had no intention of parting with it so far. On closer inspection in the mirror, he looked terrible. Surely he had thought about shorter hair after the separation from Ellen because it had become so incredibly long. He stroked his mat, which reached far above his elbows. Actually, they were a lot of work and had to be brushed constantly to avoid knotting and he obviously didn’t look attractive with them either, because there was no successor for Ellen in sight. Most of the women he hit on first thought he was a woman and a freak and then turned away from him in horror. A young woman he was interested in was an apprentice in a salon and only wanted to win him over as a model for a short haircut. On the travels in hot countries, loose hair became a torture and he could only endure the heat when he wore a braid, ponytail or bun. Everywhere in his homeland, people stared at him and made stupid remarks. It wasn’t easy with hair like that. He simply couldn’t bring himself to make a decision and put the decision on the back burner. Time passed and he met Jonas 2 days before departure to Singapore. Jonas discussed with him when and where they would meet at the airport and didn’t say a word about his hair. Finally, they took some before pictures of themselves, as they traditionally did before every trip. Jonas also took a few photos of Henry with his hair down and said goodbye. Now Henry had to come to a decision. It was like before he enlisted in the army and he looked at himself extensively in front of the mirror before he went to bed. The next morning he took a shower and blow-dried his infinitely long curls. His whole back was only a single mass of hair and when he tied his shoes, long strands slipped over his elbow to his shoes and completely blocked his vision. What a bummer! He had come to a decision: he really wanted to make the trip and would rather have his hair cut off beforehand and not in Singapore. At first he toyed with the idea of doing it himself, but rejected the idea because he wanted a reasonable hairstyle. He clamped his forehead hair, looked at his watch, pulled his coat over his mane and drove into town. He had to hurry, because it was Saturday. The big barber shops were full and since he had no appointment, he was turned away. In a shop, he thought it would work and was already taking off his coat when the hairdresser at the reception sent him away after examining his mane with the words: “We don’t have time for that today!” He was frustrated and looked for salons in the side streets, where he hopefully didn’t need an appointment. Finally he found a shop where there were only two customers. The sign on the outside said “Hair clipper”! He had a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he had no choice but to enter. A bell was ringing, he heard brass music and looked around. There was only one barber’s chair, which was occupied by an older customer with thinning hair. Behind it on the wall were five wooden chairs, where a boy with shoulder-length, straight hair waited and brushed his chin-length side parting out of his face. Cuckoo clocks, chamois beards and Tyrolean hats hung around everywhere, giving the shop a Bavarian flair. It smelled musty, there was no sign of the hairdresser and Henry sat down next to the boy without taking off his coat, because he was not yet sure to be served here. Suddenly, a curtain moved and the hairdresser appeared in a blue, shabby coat. Henry had to swallow, because it was a Chinese hairdresser with hedgehog-like black hair. “Good morning, I’m Chen Li, what can I do for you?” he asked kindly and grinned at him with yellowish teeth. “I want a short haircut!” said Henry as he got up with a lump in his throat. Well, you’re lucky because a customer has just canceled. You’ll have to wait a while, though. Come, I’ll help you out of your coat. Henry slipped out of his coat, and Chen Li hung it up by the coat rack. Henry shook his loose, freshly washed mane. The hairdresser looked at his hair and said jokingly: “Oh my goodness, you have hair like a woman! Actually, I should send you to a women’s hairdresser. “turned on an ancient, creaking clipper and shaved off his client’s neck. Henry threw his hair over the backrest, sat down and sighed. The boy looked at him with wide eyes and said to him: “Wow, what a mane! I wanted to let my hair grow that long, but my parents sent me to the hairdresser because it would be much too long now.” The hairdresser took off his customer’s cape and paper cuff, brushed him, cashed in, put a pillow in the hairdresser’s chair and said, “Next!” The boy sighed and sat down. Chen Li put his paper cuff and cape on him and looked at him shaking his head. “Finally, your parents sent you to get a haircut again. They hang almost up to your chest and you can’t see out of your eyes anymore. You haven’t been with me for a very long time!” He combed out the hair roughly on all sides so that the boy’s face was completely covered, sprayed it with water, took a large pair of scissors and began to saber the hair to 3 cm, turned on his machine and shaved out the neck and sides. Finally, he combed the forehead hair over his entire face and cut it off with scissors 2 cm above the eyes. There was heaps of hair around the barber’s chair. Henry had to swallow and thought that it would be no different in Singapore. He leaned forward and reached for a magazine and saw in the mirror how his hair slipped over his shoulder and elbow. It was a nightmare for him what he saw, but there was no alternative. The bell rang and an elderly customer entered and sat down beside Henry. The barber was done with the boy and freed him from the cape, where large tufts of hair slid onto the floor. With tears in his eyes, the now shaved boy paid and Henry hoped it was his turn, but the hairdresser first took the new customer’s turn without sweeping away the hair first. The waiting and the brass band music were slowly wearing him down, but he had to get through it. In between, on the hour, several cuckoos came out of the clocks, bawled “cuckoo, cuckoo” three times, and disappeared again. After more than an hour and two other customers with thin hair, it was his turn. Chen Li looked at him with a smile: “Now it’s your turn!” Henry stood up and looked at his hair in the mirrors for the last time. At the front they hung up to his belt and at the back they covered almost his entire buttocks. Since he was clean-shaven, you could actually mistake him for a woman with super long hair at first glance. He was highly aroused. He took a seat and Chen disappeared to smoke a cigarette. “So, lady, now we’re going to make a man out of you,” he joked when he returned. He grabbed his fluffy mane with his greasy fingers, put a paper cuff and cape around him, let his hair fall over the backrest and removed the clamp. A mass of hair flowed down his face and Chen Li combed it out to the back with relish. The backrest had completely disappeared under the hair.” You won’t need the clamp again anytime soon. Oh, you washed them fresh. This is good. Then we can get started right away. How long have you not been cutting your hair?” – “I’ve been growing them for more than 6 years, and I wouldn’t have them cut yet if I didn’t travel to Singapore.” – “To Singapore? Oh, yes, they’re very strict about long hair! I wish they would introduce that in my hometown of Hong Kong. The long-haired guys usually deal in drugs.” He was looking for his scissors when his phone rang and he disappeared behind the curtain to answer the call. Henry turned his head to look after him and waist-length curls slid over his shoulder into his lap. When he saw himself in the mirror, the tension was too great and his cock exploded. He was embarrassed, but he could no longer stand these delays. Hopefully, Chen would finally start so he could get it over with. Chen talked on the phone for an agonizing 20 minutes and he didn’t notice anything because he spoke Chinese. “Sorry, but my children are constantly stressed. They mess up my whole schedule. After you, five customers come before closing time. So, where did we stop? “He looked at Henry’s mane and took a coarse comb, combed his side parting over his face so that it disappeared underneath and he couldn’t see anything anymore. Then Chen began to comb out the remaining hair on all sides, thought about it and reached for a large pair of scissors, which had patina, but still worked well. He was just about to start when the phone rang again. Chen cursed and put the scissors aside to answer the call. Henry’s tail burst again! That was just too much. Chen spoke German this time and obviously spoke to a customer. “Yes, they still want to come? But they have to come later, because I have made their appointment. You won’t believe me, but in my chair now sits a young man with hair up to his ass. That takes a lot of time to shear him. Today is a crazy day, first the neighbor boy with shoulder-length hair and now this hippy. Many women dream of such super long wavy, blonde hair as sissy, but with a young man it’s just crazy. I’ve never had anything like that here. Ok, see you later.” He hung up, came back and said to Henry, “Here we go. Say goodbye to your mane!” the scissors grabbed and sawed off the first strand at the back of the head to three cm, which gently slid to the ground. Now he cut snip, snapped one after the other to the left and wanted to continue on the right side when the bell rang and he was disturbed again. A customer came in and wanted to make an appointment. Henry pushed aside his curtain of hair and looked at himself in the mirror. The left half was already short and the ears were already visible and on the right still meter-long curls. What a sight! Chen was back again and cut off the right side without shortening the hair on his forehead. Then, with comb and scissors, he trimmed the hair on the top of his head to 3 cm and turned on his rattling clippers to shave the sides and back of his head. Henry felt his hair rain down and his lap filled. 6 years of breeding and care gone forever. Chen turned off the machine, combed out his beloved forehead hair, and cut it off 2 inches above his eyebrows. Then he adjusted his hair and Henry saw another person in the mirror. The hair on the top of his head was super short and looked like a blond cap next to the bald sides. He was horrified, but now there should be no more problem with Singapore. Chang took off the cape and curls upon curls slid to the floor. After removing the paper cuff, Chen brushed it off and seemed satisfied: “I think you won’t have any more problems in Singapore! Have a good trip!” Henry stood up and saw that the barber was ankle-deep in his blond hair, which was spread in heaps around the barber’s chair. He looked at the massacre and felt the back of his bald head. Chen cashed in and took care of the next customer. The brass band music was still hammering in his head all day. The next day, Henry met his friend Jonas at the airport. At first he recognized him only by his coat and held his hand over his mouth in amazement. “That’s what I call a haircut!” he joked and they happily flew to Singapore. Henry noticed a young man on the plane whose brown hair reached half his back. Well, he’s going to get into trouble, he thought, and he was happy about the drama at the customs officers. In Singapore they went to passport control and the long-haired guy was right in front of them. The clever man had made himself a braid and tucked it into his shirt. If that goes well! The officers checked his passport, looked at him angrily and laughingly pulled out his braid. They said to him very sternly, “You know we don’t like long hair here in Singapore. We want you to leave the country or cut your hair as soon as possible. We’ll give you a visa for a week.” – “Yes, that’s ok. for me. I only want to stay three days anyway before I continue my journey!” he replied relieved, thanked him and went to the baggage claim. Henry was amazed. You also only got one week. Henry asked the customs officer why he let the long-haired man enter the country like that. “We have relaxed the regulations because pop stars and top managers wear long hair for fashion reasons and refuse to cut their hair because of a few days in Singapore and therefore do not want to come anymore!” Henry scratched the back of his shaved head and tears welled up in his eyes. What a bummer, it was all in vain and the brass band was pounding in his head!
