JimB
The Older Woman
By JimB (C)opyright March1996
It was in the 1980’s.
I was a young nineteen year old and a barber working at the local barber shop.
The owner, Sandie, had me and Carrie working the same days.
One day this “older” lady brought her son in for a hair cut.
He sat in my barber chair for a short flattop and she sat in Carrie’s barber chair and watched me work.
It was just a good hair cut for a seven year old boy.
His Mom was starting to get interested in his hair cut.
She looked as if she was interested in getting the same hair cut.
But, she was a bit scared to do it right then.
She had a hungry look in her eyes and I was actually intimidated sexually.
Don’t get me wrong, she was very attractive with medium brown hair to mid back in a long layered cut which was grown out.
Carrie gave her a quick consultation.
Carrie brushed through her long strands and asked her what she wanted.
She told Carrie, “Oh, don’t you want to know!”
As she made eye contact with her son and the hair cut I was giving him.
This had caught Carrie off guard.
She told Carrie she was really tired of the long hair and the work to keep it was just too much.
Carrie showed her different hair cuts by holding her hair back off her face and different lengths and angles.
She told Carrie, “She really like a “Dorothy Hamel” Wedge hair cut she had in high school.
She thought about it.
“But, she felt it wasn’t what she wanted being she was older.
“Maybe she should have the back cut into the “Farrah Fawcett” hair cut she had before.”
A few days later Sandy arrived for a hair cut.
She sat in Carrie’s barber chair with great confidence and control.
Carrie did not say a word and put the cape on her.
She stood behind her and ran her fingers through her long hair pulling it all up and clipped it to the top of her head.
As I looked at them, their eyes met again!
Damn!
Carrie had a weird look.
Her demeanor had changed from being in control to very quiet.
Upon combing out her massive tangles Carrie sectioned her hair off with a thin sections across the neckline.
Sandy asked Carrie, “How are you going to cut my hair?”
“I don’t want to know!”
“That depends!
“Are you feeling brave today?” Carrie asked.
Sandy just sheepishly smiled and nodded “yes” and barely squeaking out a “Yes” from her quivering voice.
Carrie raised her barber chair up to where it was comfortable to do her hair cut.
Carrie tilted her head downward gently and began to comb the long hair downward.
Carrie was still not sure what hair cut she was going Sandy.
So, she thought she would give Sandy a little hair cut “test”.
Brushing her finger slowly upward.
“Farrah Fawcett!” Sandy asked.
“Maybe!” Carrie said with a wick smile and looking at me, as I sat in my barber chair watching her.
She placed her scissors on the back of her neckline to start a nice short wedge.
“”Dorothy Hamel” Wedge cut?’ Sandy asked.
“Maybe,” Carrie told her as she moved the scissors away and began moving her fingers upward.
“Wait!!” Sandy quickly told Carrie. “I’m not ready yet!”
Sandy was fidgeting in the barber chair and was a bit panicked!
Her eyes now had moist tears starting to form.
Carrie told her, “Let’s just trim it.
“Okay?”
Sandy squeaked out, “Okay”.
And, that was it.
Carrie lightly trimmed her back into a long layered cut.
As Carrie removed the cape from her, she apologized and said, “She didn’t mean to freak out on her.
“I wanted a few more days to think about cutting her hair short.”
Jokingly Carrie told her she owed her one and she was not going to forget.
On Friday Sandy shows up at the barber shop.
Carrie looked up and said, “HI.”
“I’m ready for the Wedge cut,” she told Carrie as she sat in her barber chair.
Carrie and I looked at each other. Carrie had that wicked smile
Carrie damped her hair and slowly comber it downward.
She was very still and fidgeting around a little.
Carrie cut her hair to her neckline to test her.
She placed the scissors at an angle, to cut the “wedge”.
“NO,” Sandy said as she moved her left hand to the back of her head.
“Maybe you should cut my hair like “Farrah Fawcett!”
As Carrie combed upward with her scissors’ blades opened.
Sandy raised both of her hands behind her.
Carrie removed the comb and scissors and looked at me.
Just as Carrie was about to tell Sandy to “make a decision”.
“I trust you,” Sandy said as she placed her hands under the cape.
Carrie looked at me with her wicked smile as she turned to her barber chair.
Taking a step to the right side of her barber chair, Carrie raised her hands to the sides of Sandy’s head.
“Do you really trust me?” she asked Sandy and started moving her fingers upward.
“Yes, I trust you to do what you think would be good form me,” Sandy said.
“You trust me enough,” Carrie began.
“To not ask about, or questions, the hair cut I will give you!”
“Yes,” Sandy told her.
“No matter how short you cut my hair!”
Sandy stepped to the shelf and looked at me, as she reached for her clippers.
Her fingers searched through the drawer with all the attachments.
“Going to test her,” Sandy said as the she put the quarter inch attachment on the clippers.
“And, I am not going to give her a chance of changing her mine.”
Turning to her barber chair Carrie stepped to the right side and held the clippers up so Sandy could see it.
“Quarter of an inch,” she told Sandy.
Like she told me, she did not give Sandy a chance to change her mine.
She placed the clippers in the center of her head and began slowly moving it over her head.
“You said you, “You trust me enough,” Carrie told Sandy.
“To not ask about, or questions, the hair cut I will give you!
“No matter how short you cut my hair!”
Carrie move the clippers back over her head again and again, until her hair was nothing but a quarter of an inch.
Tilting Sandy’s head to the left Carrie began slowly moving the clipper up and back over the right side of her head.
As Carrie stepped behind her barber chair I was able to see the look on Sandy’s face.
Her eyes were wide open in disbelief.
Then, slowly a smile came to her face.
With Sandy’s head tilted downward Carrie was slowly moving the clippers up the back of her head.
Stepping to the left side on Sandy’s head, Carrie slowly moved clippers upward and forward.
As she made the last upward movement, she asked Sandy, “Do you still trust me?”
Taking her hand from under the cape and brushing them over her now quarter of inch hair cut.
Sandy looked at her standing there and said, “More than when I came to you a week ago and today.”
Carrie showed her the clippers and slowly removed the quarter inch attachment and tossed it on the shelf.
Carrie placed the attachmentless clipper to Sandy’s head and slowly moved it upward and slowly working backwards.
Sandy left hand came from under the cape.
But, Carrie stopped her and moved her hand back under the cape.
Stepping behind her barber chair Carrie titled Sandy’s head downward and began to slowly move the clippers upward and across Sand’s head.
Sandy slowly move her right hand from under the cape and slowly moved it upward.
I saw her and stepped out my barber chair.
I grabbed her hand and slowly pushed it back under the cape.
Carrie and I looked at each other.
Carrie stepped to the right side of her barber chair and tilted Sandy’s head downward to the left and began slowly moving the clippers up and backward.
Taking a comb from the shelf Carrie stepped to the right side of her barber chair and began moving it back over Sandy’s head and running the attachmentless clippers over the comb.
Backward and backward until the hair on the top of Sandy’s head was flat.
With Sandy’s hair as short as she wanted it, Carrie stepped to the shelf and put the comb on the shelf and hung the clippers under the shelf.
She turned and removed the cape and began tucking and spreading a white towel over her shoulders.
She stepped to the shaving dispenser and flowed some warm shaving lather.
She looked at her self in the mirror.
Then, she looked at me in the mirror, with her wick smile.
“Do you still trust me?” Carrie asked Sandy.
“More than when you came to me a week ago and today.”
Sandy replied, “YES.”
I looked at Carrie and quietly said to her, “You’er not going to!”
“Just the back and sides,” she told me.
She stepped to the right side of the barber chair, holding her left hand so Sandy could see the warm shaving lather.
“Do you still trust me?” Carrie asked Sandy.
Sandy looked at Carrie and said nothing.
She looked at Carrie’s left hand and turned her head to the mirrors over the waiting chairs.
Slowly Carrie began spreading warm shaving lather over the right side, slowly to the back, and the left side.
Taking her favorite straight razor, Carrie stropped it over the lather strap.
“Do you still trust me?” Carrie asked Sandy.
Sandy looked at Carrie and said nothing.
Sandy raised the straight razor and began slowly shaving the right side of Sandy’s head and slowly working her way behind the barber chair to the left side.
With the excess shaving lather removed, Sandy turn and walked to the right side of the barber chair.
She looked at me as she placed the head rest in the barber chair.
“Just another test,” she said as she lowered the back of the barber chair so Sandy was looking at the ceiling.
Carrie and I looked at each other than at Sandy.
She just laid there with her eyes closed.
“Do you think she knows what you are going to do,” I asked Carrie quietly.
“I do not care,” she said as she tossed a towel in the sink of warm flowing water.
As the towel got watered Carrie began spreading pre-shave lotion over her face.
After ringing out the towel she wrapped Sandy’s face.
She flowed move warm shaving lather in her left hand.
Taking the towel off Sandy’s face and letting her see the warm shaving lather.
Sandy just closed her eyes and Carrie lathered her face.
Taking her favorite straight razor, Carrie stropped it over the lather strap.
“Do you still trust me?” Carrie asked Sandy.
Sandy looked at Carrie and said nothing.
Sandy raised the straight razor and began slowly shaving her face.
With Sandy’s face shaved, Carrie looked at Sandy laying there with her eyes closed.
“Do you still trust me?” Carrie asked Sandy.
Sandy looked at Carrie and said nothing.
Sandy raised the straight razor and began slowly shaving her eyebrows.
She whipped the excess shaving lather from Sandy’s face and raised the back of the barber chair.
With the back of the barber chair upright, Sandy was able to see her short hair cut.
She began brushing her fingers over her shaved eyebrows. Her eyes got wide.
I looked at Carrie, who saw Sandy’s expression as she brushed her fingers over her shaved eyebrows.
“Had to do a final test,” she told me and shrug her shoulders.
“Well, you asked me,” Sandy began.
“IF I really trusted you?
“IF I trusted you enough.
“To not ask about, or questions, the hair cut you would give you!”
“No matter how short you cut my hair!”
“And, my answer was, “Yes, I trust you to do what you think would be good form me.”
Sandy stepped from the barber chair.
“I did not expect this hair cut,” Sandy said brushing her fingers over the hair cut.
“I did not expect this face shaving.
“But, I do like the shaved eyebrows.
“I have been want to shave them for years.
“But, never had the nerves to shave them.”
Carrie stood there with disbelief. I was as surprise as Carrie.
“You really look great with the hair cut,” I told her.
“But, I think Carrie went over with the shaving of the back and sides.”
Sandy paid and walked to the door.
“Carrie, I will trust you more,” she said as she opened the door.
“The next Saturday morning I came for a hair cut with my son.”
