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When I got out of bed the temperature was already 85 degrees and the humidity was just about through the roof. It was going to be miserable. I jumped into the shower and washed my hair. When I got out I threw on a pair of shorts and a tank top and stood in front of the mirror and got ready to spend the next hour getting my hair in place.

My hair is (or was) almost half way down my back and bleached white. I had been getting my hair bleached every month and I had an appointment to get it done again tomorrow as my roots were showing horribly.

I like wearing my hair big and curly (like a country singer or porn star) But today my hair wasn’t doing what I wanted it to. In fact all month long has been a war with my hair every morning. The humidity and the heat was working against me and there was no relief in site. After 3 handfuls of mega hold gel and half a can of super freeze hold hair spray I got fed up and threw it in a massive stiff, sticky pony tail and headed out. Today was the last straw. I was going to get rid of every single inch of it.

I drove downtown and parked my car. I wasn’t going to go to my regular salon. My usual hairdresser would never do what I wanted done (he would lose out on about $75 bucks per month from bleaching my roots). So I strolled down the street to one of the barbershops in town.

The one I chose was a very clean but very plain shop. There was a huge window in the front. Inside there were 2 barber chairs and a row of about 5 waiting chairs in front. The barber was a rather average looking guy, much older than I was, reading a paper.

“Hi”, he said. “Can I help you”.

“Yes”, I said. “I can’t take the heat a second longer. Can you cut my hair off”.

He laughed a little bit and said that he had never cut a woman’s hair before. I told him not to worry. I didn’t mind and said that he might have fun doing it. I sat in the chair and he spun me around to look in the mirror.

“What do you want to do today”?

“I’ve given this a lot of thought and I’m serious about it. I want a complete head shave”.

“Are you kidding me? Why would you want to do something like that”?

“Look, it’s a million degrees outside. The humidity makes it feel even hotter. My hair is sticky, sweaty, and there is too much of it. I’m tired of drying it and I’m tired of pulling it up, and if I don’t pull it up, it’s in my face all the time. I’ve really have thought about this for a while. It’s okay”.

“Hey, suit yourself. $8 is $8 to me”.

8 bucks!!!! This was going to be great!
He pulled out my hair spray and gel crusted ponytail holder. My hair stayed up over my head, not budging an inch. I had literally glued my hair to my head

“Oh my god”, I said, “I am so embarrassed”.

He tried pulling it apart but it stuck out all over in hard straight clumps.

“I don’t think my clippers are going to get through this. What do you want me to do”?

“Well”, I thought for a second, “Can you shampoo it?”

“I don’t have the special sink here. It’s a barbershop. I’ve never washed hair before here. The sink I have in front of you is the one that came with the shop when I bought it. It’s got a hose but I’ve never used it. I kind of bought the place as is”.

“I don’t mind. You just have to get the gel and hair spray out. I can lean over the sink. You don’t have to be very careful”.

“Okay, I guess”.

He dug out an old bath towel a draped it over my shoulders. I leaned forward over the sink and he pulled out the hose and turned the water on. He stood above me spraying the water over my head, running his fingers through my wet hair making sure it was fully soaked. He shut the water off and I heard him rummaging through drawers and cabinets.

“Um, I don’t think I have any shampoo here. Let me look out back and see if the previous owner left any”.

He disappeared for a long time. I could hear him in the back room moving things around, knocking things over and pushing boxes. When he returned to me at the sink he said, “The only thing I found was a bar of soap”.

“If that’s all you have, then I guess it’s okay to use. It’s going to be my last shampoo for a while anyway”.

He unwrapped the soap and I felt him rub it over my wet hair. He would turn the water on occasionally to rewet the soap. “Can you lift your head up a little bit so I can get the front”. I pushed myself up on the sink about half way and braced my hands on the edge. I could now see myself in the mirror. He ran the bar of soap across the front of my hair several times, leaving a trail of lather across my forehead. After about 5 minutes he finally had enough to make a thin lather out of my hair. He put the soap on the counter and began to scrub my head.

“This is kind of fun. I’ve never washed a woman’s hair before”.

I laughed. “I love getting my hair shampooed. It’s fun when they play with the lather and smear it all around. Can I sit up in the chair? The water is dripping my face”.


I sat up a dabbed my face with the corner of the towel. I settled back in the chair while the barber went back to work lathering my soapy hair. “Do you mind if I have a cigarette?” I asked. “I have some in my purse”.

“I guess not”.

He pulled his foamy hands from my hair and I got up and went over to where my purse was sitting on a chair. I dug out a cigarette and lit it. Then I walked back over to the barber chair and he started to relather my head.

“Can I finish this before you rinse my hair”.


I was really enjoying my shampoo. “You are doing a great job. Hey, can you make a shampoo Mohawk?”

He scooped my hair in his hand and smoothed it up to the top in a fringe, but it drooped down. “I don’t think the soap is thick enough to do that. Sorry”.

“Hey, you have shaving cream don’t you? You can put that in my hair”.

He was definitely having fun with my hair now, so there wasn’t any hesitation this time. He grabbed a can of shaving cream and began coating my head and massaging it in. I left my cigarette hanging out of the corner of my mouth while I watched him

Now my hair looked like it was covered in a thick white paste. “This is like playing in the mud”, he said. “Man, this is really thick now”.

“And it’s really gooey too. It feels so good though. Try the Mohawk now”.

This time, my hair stood straight up. I laughed hysterically at the way I looked in the mirror. “Now try an Alfalfa cowlick and see how high it will go”.

He piled my hair on top of my head and formed a cone shape by cupping his hands and smoothing it up straight. Soon I had a giant spike sprouting from the top of my head. I laughed.

“I’m sorry to say that I only have a few puffs left. I could sit here all day and watch you shampoo my hair.

I crushed out my cigarette and he guided my lather-coated head into the sink. He turned on the water again and rinsed away all the soap and shaving cream. He shut the water off and toweled me off. I sat up and he pulled a white and gray striped cape around my neck. He grabbed a large black comb and took all the tangles out.

He took a small section of my hair in back and with the scissors snipped it off close to my head. Parting off another section right next to it and did the same thing. Continuing around my head, the barber snipped away my hair with the scissors. As my bleached blond hair came off, a dark brown and choppy pixie cut was starting to emerge. I hadn’t seen myself with dark hair in several years. I loved the short hair, but I was ready for it all to be off.

The barber took the clippers and turned them on. He pressed it to my head and started zipping my scalp. There was a dark shadow left where my hair had been.

When he finished, he took a hot towel and draped it over my head. He spun me away from the mirror and got another can of shaving cream and dispensed a large handful. He began to coat my scalp. This time it felt a lot different. It was very tingly like it was fizzing against m
y bare skin. He smeared the lather around my ears and across the very top of my forehead, finishing up low on my neck. I didn’t have a mirror to look in, but I could only imaging how funny I looked (probably even funnier than when he was washing my hair) The phone rang just as he picked up the straight razor.

He walked to the other side of the shop and picked up the phone. I wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying, I was enjoying the feeling of the shaving cream on my scalp. Just then, the door opened up.

3 men came into the shop. They were about the same age as the barber. They sat down in the chairs right in front of my, about 10 feet away. They stared at me, not knowing for sure if I was a guy or a girl at this point (though they seemed pretty sure I was a girl). I reached behind me and pulled off the cape and stood up, exposing my very womanly figure. I walked towards the barber and whispered, “Where is the bathroom at?” He pointed to a small door in the very back of the shop. I went in and viewed myself in the mirror. I wiped off the sweat on my forehead, removing a lot of the shaving cream in the process.

I went back out just as the barber hung up the phone. “Sorry”, I said. “I really had to go and I think I wiped off some of the shaving cream”.

“That’s okay. I’ve got lot’s more left”.

I sat back down, facing the new customers, and he put the cape back on me. He reapplied another handful of shaving cream to my head and took the straight razor. It scraped and pulled at the stubble left on my head. He would wipe the shaving cream off his blade, then hold my foamy head in his hand and continue shaving away the remnants of my buzz cut.

When he finished, he spun me around and I looked in the mirror. My scalp was nice and pink and VERY shiny. I loved it.

I thanked him very casually and handed him his fee plus a tip. I thoroughly enjoyed my morning at the barbershop. I can’t wait to go back in a couple of months so I can have him shampoo me again and give me a great head shave.

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