My barber got out his shears and after several large "snip" sounds, my long hair was removed and I could feel the load taken off my head. Once my barber had the bulk of my hair ready to be cut, he asked me if I was sure, told me that it doesn’t go back on once it’s cut, and that if I chose to grow it again, it would take years. After years of not knowing what style I wanted, the vision had become clear I was to have a flattop. While growing my hair for years was not intentional, cutting it off was. The other barbers asked me about why I grew my hair, and if growing, then cutting it all off, was on purpose. He also recommended that I donate the ponytail to Locks of Love since it was a couple of feet long. He then told me that if I wanted, he would put my hair back in a ponytail, braid it, rubber band it, and cut off the ponytail, which would remove the bulk of my hair, then we would discuss styling. He then told me that the haircut in the picture I provided is much shorter than I realized. I had shorter hair probably five years prior when spiky hair was in style. He also asked me if I’ve had a clipper cut before. He then asked me if I had had a flattop before, which I had not. He smiled and loudly said "A flattop?", which got the attention of the other barbers and customers in the shop. I nervously removed the photo of the boxy flattop from my wallet to show him, and told him that I wanted a flattop. He put his hand on my shoulder and asked what we were going to do that day. I sat in his chair and he turned the chair to face the mirror behind his station. He was a middle aged man with a full gray beard and a full head of gray hair, jeans, and a black smock. After less than a minute, too short of a wait, a barber came out of the back and said that if I was ready, he could take me. The few barbers that were working all had customers in their chairs, and I was the only one waiting. There was also taxidermy and football memorabilia on the walls. The shop has several old leather barber chairs, with seating for customers waiting directly across. The smells of talcum powder and bay rum are very strong and deeply satisfying. The sight and smell of the shop hit me hard. I pulled into the parking lot and walked through the front door. I had printed out a picture of a man with a boxy flattop I had seen so many pictures of skin-tight flattops that this one looked conservative for my first one. He then told me that all the barbers there do good flattops.Īfter weeks of ruminating and debating whether I could go through with it, one day after school I decided I was going to walk into the Eagle’s Nest and ask for a flattop. I asked him where he gets it cut, and he looked surprised, and flattered, and told me. I don’t know what came over me, but I told him I liked his haircut as I walked into class! He then proceeded to thank me, and tell me that I have a good face shape for a flattop. The bare scalp of the back and sides of his head were on full display, and the top was short, stiff, symmetrical, and of course, flat. One spring day, I walked into class, and Frank was sporting a newly tightened up flattop. Discovering sites with pictures of more flattopped men that looked equally cool, and reading experiences of others that loved the barbershop experience, and the experience of getting and having a flattop made me increasingly eager. I began Googling flattop haircuts, because I had never noticed them the way I was now. He was a bona fide flattop aficionado, he even talked about how in the summertime, when school was out, he would get it tightened every couple of weeks. He mentioned that his son got him into flattops, and he prefers it over all other haircuts, even if it makes for a cold head in the winter. Each time, the overall preciseness and shortness piqued my interest a little more. Throughout the year, Frank had received multiple flattop haircuts. It was so cool, unique, and inspiring, that I knew I had to get one. The combination was absolutely beautiful, and like nothing I had seen before. The back and sides were equally intriguing as they showed much of his bare head. It was mesmerizing as the bristles on top stood at perfect attention. This changed when Frank, my computer repair teacher, came into class one fall day with a fairly short flattop haircut. The long length became part of my identity. I grew it because I didn’t know what I wanted to do with it. At the time, I had grown my hair for most of high school, and it was nearly down to my waist. I first became aware of my need to have ultrashort hair in my senior year of high school. A Flattop? (My True Story) by InnocentKink
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