Haircuts- Gents only

 

 

This post is for GENTS only – LADIES please ignore as it will NOT interest you.

 

Well, I have written about haircuts before, but this is slightly different. First and foremost, my hair and nails grow very fast, and I am not sure if that is good or bad. Not Googling it either, because one never knows what Google will throw up!

 Last evening my hair was irritating me – it happens when my hair reaches a particular length. Hence, I decided to go and have my haircut. I have found a nice, clean saloon, quite close to my house. No, it is not 5 star or anything, but the last few times the guy there gave me a nice haircut, so I went back again.

It was already a little past 8.45 pm and hence quite uncharacteristic of me, as I am usually an ‘early morning hair cut person’. Anyway, let me get on with my story. I have this horrible habit of digressing at times.

 Now, whenever I visit this saloon, I am always greeted warmly by the manager and his assistant, a smart young man, who always cuts my hair and does a brilliant job – very much to my satisfaction.  I am offered tea and biscuits and they always enquire about the family. Both are very genial, always smiling, and eager to please.  

Yesterday, when I walked into the saloon, something was a trifle different. The shop seemed to have been rearranged and I was greeted by a stranger who himself looked like an actor in a crime thriller. When I enquired about the manager and the man who usually cuts my hair, I was told that they were out and would return soon. This stranger offered to cut my hair, but I told him that I would prefer to wait. Something about him was shifty. Did I see him grimace when I refused his offer?

Anyway, he grudgingly agreed, and went about his business, pottering about the shop, rearranging items meticulously on the counter& counting the notes and coins in the safe box- all which seemed rather unnecessary.  Meanwhile, I picked up a magazine and feigned browsing through it, while keeping a close eye on him. His whole manner and unnecessary fiddling about with the items on the counter was weird. This man was beginning to worry me, and I thought of walking out. My usual calm disposition and self-assurance seemed to have dropped a notch or two for no concrete reason.

Was my heart beating faster? Was I getting a panic attack? Was I overreacting?

Let me tell you what he looked like, and leave you to judge, as to whether I was being unnecessarily distrustful & paranoid.  His was stocky, and one could tell that he worked out for sure. His black shirt and jeans had seen better days. His eyes were blood shot, and he had a moustache which was badly in need a trim. He needed a shave as well.  There was something ruthless about his whole persona that I could not fathom. He wore a flashy gold watch to match the two gold chains around his neck. He had two mobile phones and made and received calls on both in a span of fifteen minutes. He was a busy man indeed. And oh yes, lest I forget to mention it – there was a stud in his ear – it looked like a diamond. Cover the bottom half of his face with a large black mask and what have you?

Meanwhile my mind went into overdrive. Could this chap have done away with the owner, threatened the other workers, made them leave and then taken over the shop by force? Could this have happened that evening itself and was I the first customer after the coup, so to say? Was he a barber in the first place? Did he know how to cut hair? Was mine going to be the ‘first haircut he gave in his new avatar? There were so many unanswered questions.

Suddenly, I was awoken from my reverie, by him telling me that the manager and his assistant would not be back for an hour or so, and hence he would be cutting my hair. I don’t know whether he was a hypnotist or not, but I got up, sat down on the proffered chair without protesting any further, and prepared myself to be sacrificed! So, this was how they did it. I had read so many stories in the past and they all seemed to be finally catching up with me.

I was tense and ready to jump and bolt in case he made any sudden moves or tried to strangulate me.

For some strange reason, he began by putting a new blade into the razor! I pretended not to notice and instead, stared blankly at the programme on the television set, which I was sure he had switched on to distract me. It seemed to be some sort of a murder mystery on Netflix, and that did nothing to calm my jarring nerves. However, my heart skipped a beat or two when I saw him place the razor on the table near at hand. The razor was only needed at the end, wasn’t it?

My fertile imagination immediately went into overdrive and the whole scene flashed before my eyes in a matter of seconds.

So, this was it – the door had undoubtedly been locked from within. He had obviously done this craftily, while I was reading the magazine. How did I miss it?  He was not a barber by any length of imagination. The lights would soon be switched off. I would be threatened with the razor blade. My mobile and purse would then be snatched. I would be tied up.  He would then walk out nonchalantly after threatening me not to report the matter, or else face dire consequences for my indiscretion. This was not his shop &he would never be seen in the area again.

There was a new protagonist for sure………

He then began cutting my hair. Within the first few minutes I felt foolish for my scepticism and presumptuous suspicions. His scissors flew over my head in experienced hands while he engaged me in an interesting conversation on cricket and football. Over the span of the next fifteen or twenty minutes, he washed my hair, blow dried it, used scissors, clippers, shears and a variety of razors and combs. He then used the blow drier again and followed it up an amazing head massage. He then brought out two different mirrors to show me the back of my head. All this while he told me about his family his school going children back in Delhi and how he had landed in Dubai a few hours ago and had come straight to the shop.

 I felt like a new man.   A slightly foolish new man, to be more precise, but a man in control of his life once again.

While I was making the payment, the door opened, and two familiar faces walked in- the manager and the one who usually cuts my hair.

They then apologised for being away & officially introduced me to the ‘Owner of the business’ the one who had just given me a terrific haircut.  

Appearances are often so misleading.

 God bless you Suresh Bhai and thank you!