Home » Location » Barbershop » My Wife’s Worst Barber (Part 2 Her Bowl Cuts)

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Taking my wife to the old Italian barber was always exciting. His haircuts were absolutely the worst that could ever be produced in a barbershop, but watching the old guy wielding the clippers was simply erotic. He sheared mercilessly. I could tell he enjoyed what he was doing, particularly since he sensed that I didn’t care too much about the outcome.

His clippering technique was very much like sheep shearing. The clippers started at the base of my wife’s neck and were never raised until he reached the top of her crown. Only after she was thus clippered would he begin scissor blending as best he could. My wife had particularly thick hair. Often his plastic attachment would come loose from his Wahl electric clipper part-way during a pass through her hair.

For a time I tired of the SB&S cuts she generally wore. Her hair grew out for several months while we did other things like experiment with various colours and bleaching. Her hair grew to a length of about 6 inches on top and roughly 4 inches on the back & sides. I was eager to try some bowl cuts.

The first bowl cut I gave her myself at home. Actually it was more of a high bob blunt cut straight across her nape. This was merely to make it even and give a general shape to her hair. It was parted in the center and cut to almost her cheek-bones on both sides. If I remember correctly, it was dyed auburn. I left it like that for a while, then went to see her barber.

The barber was never busy. I never did figure out how he made a living. He hardly ever had any customers. This was shortly after his first shop burned. He’d set up a new shop in an old building a few doors down the street and carried on with what he’d salvaged, including the old barber chair and his basic equipment. He cut corners though by doing things like dipping his clippers in a small dish of oil instead of using clipper oil. The bottle of 10W30 was always on the counter, but it wasn’t until some time later that I discovered what he was doing.

I drove to his shop on my noon break. Most barbers would be busy then, but I knew he wouldn’t be. I’m positive to this day that my wife was his most frequent customer. He sensed that she would probably continue to be as long as I got the cuts I wanted. He smiled as I entered the shop. It had been almost eight months since we’d be there.

I took from my pocket a picture of what I wanted, a bowl cut with the weight line cut just slightly below the top of the model’s ears, straight around her head at the occipital bone. The lower hair was neatly buzzed about an eighth of an inch.

“I’ll bring in my wife about six tonight if you can cut her hair like this,” I told him.

“Yes, bring her in,” he replied.

“But I want you to clean-shave this part instead of leaving any hair,” I told him indicating the buzzed section. “I want you to clean-shave her with lather and straight razor.”

“This all shaved off?” he asked.

“Yes, don’t leave any hair below this line.” I knew he’d do it. We’d been there so often that he no longer questioned how I asked him to cut her hair. He had also come to expect that I’d be right at his shoulder videotaping every snip.

“I’ll leave you the picture. When she comes in, just cut her hair like this. She already knows you’re going to shave her that way.” This was true. We had arranged that this was the haircut she was to leave the barbershop with the next time we visited the old barber.

The barber usually closed up shop at 6 pm. We had always shown up about 5:45 or even later to be sure there would not be anyone else in the shop while my wife was having her hair cut. He also had some sheets of plywood that he hung over his windows from the outside to protect himself from vandals. Every night he put up the boards. I had long ago asked him to put them up before cutting her hair. It prevented others from staring in the window watching a lady having her hair cut off into boy’s haircuts. As we entered his shop, the barber went out and hung his boards for privacy.

My wife took off her coat placing it on a chair. She walked to the chair while the barber held it towards her, and sat down. She folded her hands into her lap as he draped her with his cape. He always held the cape in place with a large clip. This time he put a neck strip around her first.

Her hair was already brushed in place but he picked up a comb from his counter and gave her hair a quick combing down from the top all round her head. Her bangs were just brushing her eyebrows.

This barber was never one to waste time. With his shears he quickly began cutting away at her hair beginning at the back. He rarely used a comb as he cut. He inverted his clippers and inserted them into her straight hair to make his line all round her head. When he had the line and much of her hair was beginning slowly to fall away, he righted his clippers and brought them up the back of her head to the point of the line he had “drawn” in her hair. With one pass after another, he had rendered the back of her head almost bald in less than 2 minutes.

He pushed her head forward to further expose her neck as he ran the shears up to his line again a few more times. With his scissors he quickly cut off any strays that were hanging below his line. Her neck now looked completely white.

Then he raised her head again and swung her around in the chair to face him. We hadn’t talked at all about cutting her bangs. Nor had I particularly noticed them on the model in the picture. There would be no discussion now either. The old barber placed his scissors about the halfway mark between my wife’s eyebrows and her hairline and I heard the definite sound made when scissors cut hair. One quick glance at my wife told me she was horrified but we both knew it was too late. The rest of her bangs were off five seconds later. Except that they were crooked, I rather liked them cut that short.

The bangs weren’t all that was crooked. The weight-line around the back of her head was lower on one side than the other. I knew I would have to fix it when we got her home. Evidently the barber didn’t notice because he was preparing her for her shave.

His lather was always worked up in a mug. For this he used a small brush with a very short handle. Running lots of water until it steamed, he worked up a good mugfull of warm soap which he then generously applied with his brush to the back of my wife’s head. He was none to gentle as he swirled the brush around and around working up a good lather in her short bristly hair. To be sure he soaked all of the hair to be shaved, he also ended up lathering much of the hair above her weight-line.

As this barber so often did, he set down his shaving mug, reached for a towel and wiped off all the lather from her head. Swishing his brush in the mug again, he worked up another foamy white lather on the back of her head. This time the lather was thicker than the first soaping. Again much of her hair was soaped as well.

The razor he used was the type that had replaceable blades. He inserted a fresh blade before proceeding to shave her. The barber pushed her head down until her neck was almost at right angles to the floor. He took his first stroke beginning at the weight-line on the left of her head. Using slow strokes at first, he cleaned off a path through the soap taking with it the bristles. The next path beside that one was a longer one made with a swifter stroke. I could hear the hair being cut with the razor as it sliced through the lather.

Frequently he would rinse the razor free of lather and bristles, then set to work on another pass down the back of her head. Once or twice he would raise her head, run his fingers over the shaved area, then push her head back down to shave more. When her shaving was complete, he soaked the towel he had used earlier, and wiped all traces of the lather from the back of her head. Her nape and neck now gleamed with whiteness. Reaching for a bottle of green shaving lotion, he poured some into his hand, and rubbed it on the freshly shaved bac
k of her head. Then he ran his hands over her hair gently massaging a little extra into her bangs.

He combed her damp hair into place, looked once more at her bangs, then looked at me. I nodded my approval knowing I’d have a lot of repairs to make at home. He swung her chair around very slowly so I could get some good video. He turned her chair at least two full revolutions before unclamping the clip that held the cape around her. Before removing the cape, he used a small vacuum to suck up any small hairs from around her nape & clothes. As he did that, some of the hair on her weight-line was drawn towards the nozzle giving it a movement unlike it had when it was longer. He then put a generous amount of talcum on a brush and the air turned dusty as he brushed the powder on the back of her head.

When the cape was removed and shaken, some of her hair fell to the floor to join the rest. As she stepped down from the chair, my wife looked in the dirty mirror to her right. I could tell I was in for some rough words very soon as she tried to make her bangs look even. I knew she could not see just how bald her neck looked as the result of her shaving.

At home I did fix the damage. It didn’t take much to alter the level of the line to make it look straight. Running my hands over her bald neck was such a tremendous sensation! Even the bangs which had been cut higher than I had planned were thrilling. I was determined to enjoy the bowl cut again with the next one shaved even higher.

That happened in about a month. To make sure that the next bowl was going to be straight, before leaving for the barbershop, I used my own clippers inverted to “draw” the line around her head. I shaved the line down to her scalp so that the barber could not possibly make a mistake. This bowl was going to be about an inch above her ears all the way around.

Like the previous occasion, I visited the barber during my noon break. This time I gave him a picture I had taken of her last bowl cut. I told him how much I liked it and told him that the next one was to be shaved even higher than the last. I did warn him that I had provided a dotted line for him to follow this time. I didn’t tell him it was because his line was crooked. I just said I wanted him to see how high up her head I wanted him to shave her. Again I told him to be sure to clean-shave her with his lather & razor.

When I brought her into his shop late that afternoon, I could see him staring at the white line cut into her hair as she sat in his barber chair. My wife made herself comfortable placing her feet up on his footrest while he threw the cape around her. Before he snapped it tight with a clip, he ran his pudgy fingers through the back of her hair to the new weight-line. I could see he was curious about the line already marked.
With her fully caped, he proceeded to run his clippers up the back of her neck to the new line. As the short hair fell away onto her shoulders, there was a look of amazement on his face at how high up her head this haircut was going to be shaved. But he continued with the shears until she was clippered bald up the back of her head.

He swiveled her around in the chair until she was facing to the left of where he stood. His clipper cord was short, so he always stood in the same place to use the electric shears. He just moved her in the chair. He put his left hand on the top of her head and tilted her head to her right. As he did this, he brought the shears to the front of her ears and swiftly clippered off her sideburns to the line an inch above her ear. He ran the thumb of his left hand over this fresh bare patch to check for strays. He must have found some because he made two more passes up her sideburns before turning to the area above and behind her ear. In no time her left side was crisply buzzed bald to meet the bare back of her head.

Swiveling her in the chair, she soon faced to the right so he could repeat the process. He tilted her head to her left as he rapidly buzzed off all the hair on her sideburns. When he had completely clipper-shaved her right side, he again snipped around the edges of her weight-line with his scissors. This time also, I had neglected to say anything to him about cutting my wife’s bangs. He turned her chair to face him, then without any hesitation cut her bangs almost an inch higher than they had been. I guessed that since I had raised her line higher, he felt he should raise her bangs too. I instantly felt her disapproval. And again, he cut them crooked. More trouble for later. With her bangs now laying in her lap, he prepared to clean-shave her.

As this barber always did, he ran the water until it steamed, then worked up a mugful of soapy lather with his small brush. Applying it to my wife’s head, he swished the brush round and round over her bristly stubble until everything was coated with the white soap. As he did each time he shaved her, he wiped off the first lathering with his towel, then reapplied more lather by brushing it over her closely clipped nibs. He was especially careful to completely lather her sideburns and around her ears. The soap there was quite thick.
Now that she was fully lathered for her shave, he turned her around in the chair. I’m sure this was done so that I could get a great video shot before he shaved her. With a fresh blade he began to carefully remove the lather and her hair. With each stroke her white scalp showed through the path made through the lather. Once again I could hear the sharp razor cutting her hair as he shaved her.

The baldness of the area in front and around her ears below her weight-line was stark. I watched the barber several times rub his fingers over that patch. I knew he was shaving it very clean. He made a couple of upward strokes with the razor in front of her ear where her sideburns used to grow.

His towel wetted down with warm water, he washed off the last vestiges of soap from her neck and around her ears. More green shaving lotion was massaged on her bald areas, then a light massaging of the rest into her hair to help with the final combing. The final touch was to dust the clean-shaved parts with talcum as the air was filled with a light cloud.

This was a very stark, bowl cut that was shaved bald quite high. I asked my wife to shake her head. As she did, the short hair that grew down from the top flopped back & forth and then fell into place. A few more spins in the chair for my video camera, and the barber unsnapped her cape. I could tell my wife hated the haircut. There was little doubt she was really annoyed about her bangs being chopped so short. She put on her coat & left the shop while I paid the barber. Once she was out the door I told the barber I really liked the way he shaved her.

“Can you do a high-and-tight?” I asked him.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“I’ll bring you a picture.” I told him.

My mailing address is available in the “Authors” section. I appreciate hearing from anyone who cares to write. To avoid being deleted as spam, put something hair related in the subject line. I do answer all eventually.

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