"Next," announced the barber who stood beside the barber chair closer to the door.

I stood and approached the chair.

The barber slung the smock around my neck. He picked up a spray bottle from the counter. He stood behind me and started spraying my hair. As he sprayed, he pushed my hair to the side on top.

My head felt cool from the water.

"What's it gonna be?" asked the barber as he wrapped tissue around my neck.

"Well, hot days like today make me think about getting it real short, like that last guy,"

I said.

Just then, the phone rang.

"But I'll stick with a regular taper cut," I added. As I was speaking, the barber stepped over to the black pay phone hanging on the wall near the door. "Bill's Barbershop ... Until 6 p.m." The barber stepped back over to me and ran his hands over my hair a few times.

"Alright, then, let's get down to business," said the barber.

The barber picked up an electric clippers. The barber applied the electric clippers to the back of my neck. I felt the clippers shaving up the back. As he shaved, he held his hand firmly on top of my head.

When he had done the back he applied the clippers to the right side and worked his way up the side of my head. He took several strokes up the right side. Then he switched to the left side, again taking several strokes up the left side with the electric clippers. When he was done, he put the clippers down.

He stood behind me and glided his hands over my head and down the back of my neck. His touch sent a shiver down my spine. He stepped over to the counter and put a different blade in the clippers.

I anticipated that he would edge around the ears and back with this other clippers.

The barber stood behind me and applied the clippers to my neckline. However, instead of running the clippers down, he moved up the back of my neck. This seemed different than usual. Then he did it again, slightly to the right and continued tapering up the back of my neck with the clippers. I figured a little shorter than usual would be OK for the summer.

The barber stepped around to the right side. As he did, I anxiously felt the back of my neck. I expected to feel a short bristling cut. Instead, my neck felt nearly shaved clean, most of the way up the back.

As I felt this, the barber started at the sideburn and ran the clippers straight up the side.

"You're going kinda short, aren't you?" I said.

"Yup, I'm givin' you the same kind of cut as the last guy," was the reply. "That's what you wanted, right?"

I looked over at the blond, sitting in the row of seats for waiting customers reading a magazine. The blond's short hair glistened. The back and much of the sides were shaved clean and the top was barely long enough to stay neatly slicked down to his head.

"Well ... it'll be OK," I said.

He continued going over the rights sides with the clippers. Then he turned the chair around part way and began doing the same on the left side.

I was now facing the dark brown haired guy in the next chair who was getting a buzz cut. The other barber was finishing it up. I watched as the barber ran the clippers over the top on what had been the guy's dark wavy hair.

"That ought to be short enough," said the barber.

The dark haired guy with looked in the mirror at his new buzz cut. He ran his hands over his head a couple of times. "Yeah, that's good," he said. He stood up and paid the barber.

The blond and the light brown-haired guy with their short taper cuts remained sitting, reading magazines. "Come on you turkeys," said the one with the buzz cut.

"Man, I should'a done that," said the one with the light-brown taper cut.

"You'd never ... your too much of wimp," said the one with the buzz cut as he reached over to mess up the hair on top of the light-brown haired guy's head.

"Your the wimp," retorted the light-brown haired guy.

"Ladies, please," said the blond.

"Next time," said the light-brown haired guy.

"I doubt it," said the one with the buzz cut smugly.

The three walked out of the shop. The other barber sat down in his chair.

The barber cutting my hair continued going over the sides with the clippers. Then he put the clippers down and picked up a large hand mirror. "Let me show you how we're doing," he said, handing me the mirror. I held it up and saw the sides were much more tightly shaven than they ever have been. The top was wetted down but was not noticeably shorter. "Let me show you in back," said the barber. He took the hand mirror from me and held it to the back of my head. The back was also very tightly shaven up the neck.

"I'll do the top now," he said.

He picked up a scissors.

He stepped behind me and began to cut. As he cut, he lifted my hair up with his fingers, held it back, and clipped it down close to my scalp.

When he was done, he brushed off my ears and neck. Next, he unhooked the smock. My dark hair slipped onto the floor. He placed the smock back around my neck.

He stepped over to the counter and let out some shaving cream on his hand. He stepped back behind me and smoothed some shaving cream around my right ear. It was warm and felt good. Then he smoothed some on the back of my neck, then around to my left ear. He picked up a razor, put his hand firmly on my head, and began shaving me around the ears and the back of the neck. When he was done, he put the razor down, rinsed off his hands, and with a paper towel and his hands, wiped off the remaining shaving cream from my ears and neck. Then he poured out a little aftershave on his hands, and wiped it around my ears and neck which he had just shaved.

When he was done, he again held up the hand mirror. The sides looked ever shorter now and the top was cut short, barely laying in place.

"You want me to slick it down in place?" he asked.

"Yeah, OK," I said.

He reached for the spray bottle and wet down my short hair. He stepped over to the counter and put some hair creme on his hands. He stepped behind me again and ran his hands over my head. Then he brushed my hair down in place.

"Alright, that ought to be good for a few weeks," said the barber. He picked up the hand mirror from the counter. I took it from him and looked at my shortly shaven hair and felt my felt my slicked-down hair.

The barber took the smock away from around me and shook it off. I stood up and paid the barber. I stepped outside into the bright sunlight.

As I stepped outside, I noticed the three guys from the barbershop were coming out of the 7-11. They were laughing and acting kind of boisterous.

I got in my car and turned on the ignition. I watched as they made their way down the sidewalk. Then I backed up and drove away.

The End