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It is getting to be that time again. My hair was getting on the long side, curling up at the neck and around the ears. I did not want to go back to my regular barber because of the bad cut he gave me the last time I was in his shop. So after looking around for a new shop and a new barber and talking to my hair fetish friend via e-mail, I settled on going to a place outside my local area. My friend told me that this shop has a female oriental barber.

I arrived at the barbershop and looked around the strip mall for a few minutes. I had been told by my fellow hair enthusiast friend that a female oriental barber worked at this particular shop in the afternoon hours. I looked at my watch. It was 11:30. Maybe I would be lucky and she would already be there. I looked in the window and noticed that the only barber inside the shop was an older man. He was busy with a client at the time so I kind of shrugged my shoulders and decided to head across the street to get a hamburger. I would wait for an hour and see if the female did show up.

After an hour, I headed back to the barbershop. I noticed the male barber heading across the parking lot. I guess he was finished for the morning, or he was heading off for lunch. Good, maybe she was inside. I walked across the parking lot and looked in the window. Low and behold, she was there and to my astonishment, two women were sitting in the waiting area. I noticed they were holding hands. The female barber had a client in her chair and she was administering a shave on a very high and tight buzzcut.

The first woman was a bigger woman with short, short hair, clippered all around; the crown, the ears and the nape. The second female had nice long hair; chestnut brown, falling to mid-back. Nice and straight. It could not be mother and daughter because they looked the same age. I did not think it would be the long haired female who would be there for a haircut. I kind of assumed that it was the bigger female, with the clippered cut that might be there for a touch-up job.

The barberette put the razor down, wiped around the ears and neck of her client, and then she uncaped the client that was in her chair as I opened the door and walked in. The barberette looked at me and smiled. "Take a seat," she said.

I walked over to the waiting area and picked up a magazine. I flipped it open as the barberette took the cash from her previous client and thanked him. "See you in a month," she said. She walked back to her chair and turned it around so that it was facing the waiting area. She picked up her cape, flicked it across the arm of the chair and announced: "Next."

The two females looked at each other and the long haired girl lowered her head and sniffled. She did not look comforatble with what was about to happen to her. The older one looked at her sternly. "Get in the chair,' she demanded. "I don't have all day for this. I told you you were going to get it done."

"Not here," the younger one begged. "Please, not here. Can't we go somewhere else?"

"If you don't get in the chair, and right now, you can sleep outside tonight," the older one said.

I looked up. I wanted to say something but I did not. In my heart, I wanted to see this happen. But I could understand how this young female must have been feeling. Imagine, soon her hair was going to be laying on the cold barbershop floor.

"You agreed to doing this. I told you I was going to take you to my barber. Now, keep your promise," the older one said.

The younger female got up and walked slowly to the chair. She got into the chair and crossed her legs. She looked down and sniffled again. Her eyes looked at her companion, begging to be released. "Don't even think it," the older female said.

The female barber told her to sit back straight. She wrapped a neck tissue around her neck and then flicked open her cloth cape. It floated down around her shoulders and grabbing the two ends, the barberette attached a barber's clip to keep the cape securely in place.

"Yes, Miss. What are we having done today?" the barberette said.

The older female stood up and walked forward. "Short at the nape and around the ears, maybe a number 1. Keep the crown a little longer and trim her bangs. I'll come back and get her in half an hour. Don't let her talk you out of it either. She can be very persuasive when she wants to be," she said.

The older female walked toward the door and opened it. That left me alone in the shop to watch the sheering unfold. The barberette took out a brush and she stroked the young woman's chestnut brown hair. "Such beautiful hair. Oh well, better get started," she said. "One number 1 clipper cut coming up." She picked up her clippers, removed the guard, and attached a different guard.

She pulled back the long hair at the ears and placed the guard at the side of the ear. She pushed the clippers in deep and I watched as the first swatch of chestnut hair slip down over the young female's shoulder, dropping and landing in the folds of the cape. The young female sniffled again. The barberette pushed further in to her locks. Hair was spilling down over her shoulder, down to the cape. The pile was growing at a fast rate.

I continued to look on in amazement as the barber showed no mercy toward this young lady. "You must have done something serious to make her do this to you. I have seen you here before but every time you two come in, it is her that gets in the chair to be clipped. I have been praying that I would get a chance to get you in my chair,' the barberette said.

"I did not mean to do it," the young female said. "I did know what it was made of."

"What did you do that was so bad?" the barberette asked as she continued to shear her head.

"Ruined one of her blouses in the wash cycle," the young one said.

"How did you do that?" the barberette asked.

"My bangs were in my eyes when I was pouring bleech into the cycle. I poured too much bleech into the washing machine. It burned a huge hole in the material. I offered to buy her a new one but she would not accept my apology. This is my punishment," the young one said.

"Wow. That is one hell of a punishment," the barberette said.

"Yeah, she said she paid over $200.00 for the blouse," the customer said. "So I guess I am getting my just desserts. But I wish she would have taken me to a proper salon. Not here. I don't like the idea of some man getting his jollies watching me get clipped like this."

Her companion finally returned and she sat down in the waiting area, watching her lover getting clipped. Finally finished with the clippers, the barberette placed the shears on the counter, picked up a comb and an pair of scissors and started cutting into her long bangs. "Well now your bangs won't be hanging in your face anymore, will they?" the barberette said. She then combed up the sides, pulling longer locks back and out, snipping them close. Before too long, the younger female had an identical cut as her lover had. Nice and high at the sides, longer at the nape and clippered on the crown.

Her lover got up off her chair and walked over to the chair. She ran her fingers up her lover's nape area and planted a long and hard kiss on the younger ones red lips. The barberette stood back and uncaped her customer. She dusted the nck and pulled the cape off, dropping it to the floor. Long dark hair fell and spilled over the floor. Her lover paid for the hair cut and both young ladies walked out of the barbershop together.

The barberette had gathered all her chestnut brown hair and secured it wait an elastic band. "Do you want your lover's hair?" she asked the bigger female.

"No, give it to the gentleman. He seemed to enjoy the show. I am sure he has never seen anything like this before," the bigger lady said.

I spoke up: "And probably never will see again."

The barberette swept the floor quickly and dusted off the red barber's chair. She spun it around and smiled at me. "I think you are next, sir," she said. I stood up and watched as both ladies walked out together. Both young ladies had their hands in each other's short hair, rubbing the nape area and giggling.

Copyright protected (c) 2003 Copyright legal and registered to author.

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