Crewcut in Ireland

Crewcut in Ireland – Barber Jos

At the end of April my wife Helen and I had a small holiday in the western part of Ireland in an area called the Burren near the bay of Galway. We rented a detached cottage in the middle of nowhere. As a biologist I always loved this area. From the botanical point of view it is extremely interesting, even though at a first glance it looks like a moon landscape. Along the coast you can find thousands of seabirds at the cliffs of Moher. Everywhere you see Celtic stonewalls dating from long ago. The climate can be harsh, usually with a lot of rain, but it never rains very long. But this year the crazy thing was that the weather was extremely fine during a whole week and we spent most of our time outside roaming the Burren or just daydreaming at the cliffs.

The whole thing seemed almost a dream, because in the months before we went to Ireland we were extremely busy with our daily work. Even the evening before we left I was preparing a lot of questions for an examination. And my wife was still preparing a report that should be finished before we left. Time to cut each other’s hair, as we usually do, we did not have, but I was fed up with my hair and took the clippers. I used attachment #1 and with high speed I removed a lot of hair, leaving only somewhat longer hair in front. My wife, seeing the result of my action said, “The only thing I want to do is pack the luggage and just sleeping till tomorrow. If you want to cut my hair, you’ll have to take the clippers to Ireland.”

At that moment the telephone started to ring. It was my brother wishing us a good holiday. I totally forgot to put the clippers in the luggage.

The next day we were very early at the airport. Our flight to Knock departed perfectly according to schedule and two hours later we arrived in Ireland where it was raining, With our car (fly-drive) we went to the Burren and to our surprise it stopped raining when we arrived at our cottage.

The location was perfect and along a small brook I saw the first primulas and even some blue gentians. Somewhere in the sky a lark was singing. Our whole busy existence at home seemed to disappear. It was almost bewildering to look around the house, enjoying the magnificent view on the bay of Galway and the grey hills of the Burren.

We instantly lost the fatigues of the last weeks and started to kiss each other.

“It is such nice weather,” said my wife. “Let us go to the coast and have a look at the cliffs of Moher. You promised me a beautiful sunset, so let us go. We’ll just take a meal in one of the villages over there and you promised me a lot of Irish music.”

The cliffs were as beautiful as I remembered them from 20 years ago. We strolled along the small path quite near the margin of the cliffs and it was almost nauseating to look down.

The late afternoon light was extremely beautiful and we took a seat on some stones.

We just were seated when two girls came along the path. One of them had a very nice face but with an outgrowth of hair that spoiled her potential beauty. The other one was a blond-haired girl with a ponytail and extremely nice blue eyes. The dark-haired girl stared at my wife and whispered something in the ear of the blonde one. When they had passed us I grinned at Helen and said jokingly, it seemed that they admired her hair.

Some twenty meters farther on the girls halted and discussed something. From time to time they looked in our direction and I saw that the dark-haired girl touched her own hair and the hair of the blonde and indicated, as it seemed, a short length between her fingers.

“Oh heavens, I promised that you might cut my hair,” said my wife. “It seems a good idea, especially as the weather will be fine and my skin will be brown in a few days.”

After the sunset we had a meal and returned to our cottage.

“You better cut my hair first,” said my wife. “If you look for the clippers, scissors etc, I will put a towel around me as a kind of cape.”

In fact I am the very happy hair fetishist who may cut the hair of his own wife.

Already as a small boy I liked woman with short hair very much, as much as I disliked long hair and the whole business of haircurling by my mother and sister. Usuallly as I passed a hairdresser’s shop I looked inside to see if a girl had the courage to get a short haircut.

My love for short hair was so strong that I decided to confess my hair fetish to all the women that I fell in love with. To be honest at that time I did not know the word hair fetish and did not know if that strange longing for short hair was a strong deviation.

My first (late) wife found it quite natural that we should cut each other’s hair, because that was normal in her family. When I confessed that short hair was also attractive in a sexual sense, she was very curious and within a short time she was well known for her extreme short hair, which she liked very much. After her early death I befriended one of my students and one of the first things I did was to confess my preference for short hair. She was always confused by my preference till she discovered that she found it nice to have her hair extremely short at the sides and back, especially as it was buzzed with clippers. Already soon she discovered that the best place for such a haircut was the old-fashioned barber. Even in Egypt and Nepal she visited barbers to have her hair cut. At first she did not want her hair on top to be very short as well. But once she was fed up with her hair during a warm period and asked the barber to cut all her hair in a crewcut, which was very attractive. Alas this girl had a terrible character and I was happy to finish that relationship.

After some time I decided to look for a new partner, which was quite difficult because I did not know many free women in my work.

So I decided to place an advertisement (notice) in my newspaper, which has a big section with this kind of advertisements on Saturday. I explained all kinds of my ideas, feelings, my opinion about emancipation etc. and after ample reflection I decided to add my preference for a woman with extreme short hair. I had the feeling that this preference should strongly reduce the number of reactions. To my surprise I obtained more than a hundred reactions of women with short hair or women who were willing to lose their long hair. More important were of course all the other characteristics because I knew far too well that short hair only should be a very weak base for a new life

One of the women I met was Helen and within a short time we really fell in love. At that time her short hair was rather longish and already after one week she found that I should accompany her to a hairdresser and that I should instruct how the haircut would be done.

The first time she was alarmed about the amount of hair she was losing if the hairdresser was following my instructions. After some months she became so much used to the short hair that she disliked her hair as soon as it became somewhat longer.

I usually had so many comments on the hairdresser that Helen proposed that I should cut her hair myself. Moreover she knew that I could do it, because of my experience in the past.

Looking through our luggage I discovered that the clippers were still at home. With a lot of shit-exclamations I went to the bathroom were Helen was ready for her haircut. “Well, in that case we will have to look for a hairdresser tomorrow,” she said.

It was still early in the evening and we decided to visit a pub in the village. It was rather crowded, because some local musicians were playing folk music, which I liked so very much. Somewhere in a corner I saw the two girls who seemed to look again at my wife. We did not pay much attention to them enjoying the music. At midnight we returned to our cottage, tired but very satisfied after a long nice day far away from our daily activities in Holland.

We had a very sound deep sleep and awoke the next morning when the sun started shining in our bedroom. To our surprise the sky was almost totally blue and we enjoyed our breakfast in the garden.

“Let us do all the shopping for the weekend and have a look if there is a hairdresser somewhere,” said my wife. “Didn’t you say there is a nice small old town somewhere?”

I remembered the small town E., in fact not more than some streets with nice old shops.

We drove to E., along the road enjoying the old Celtic landscape. On the way I suggested that we should look for an old-fashioned barbershop. I like to cut my wife’s hair, but I find it also very exciting if it is cut by a real barber Entering E. I saw a classic barber pole and we parked our car somewhat farther.

“I have the feeling that the shop is still closed,” said my wife, because it was totally dark inside.

“Let us have a look,” I said.

On the door was a sign. “Open: Friday and Saturday from 9-14.” We tried the door, but the shop was still closed.

“It should have been open already,” said Helen. We hesitated and wanted to walk away.

At that moment somebody said, “Can I help the lady and the mister? I am the old barber. But it seems to me that the mister does not need a haircut as recently somebody did a decent job. But what can I do for you?” I explained that we were looking for a place where my wife could get a good haircut. “Well in that case you should go to that terrible unisex salon around the corner,” said the old man.

“Oh heavens no,” I said, “we are just looking for an old-fashioned barber who is good at a short haircut.”

My wife hesitated, but the barber opened the door and invited us to come inside. The shop almost looked like a museum with a row of 4 beautiful old barber chairs. The barber saw my glance and said, “Yes mister this is the rest of the big barbershop; 25 years ago 4 barbers were working here. Some years ago around the corner somebody started a modern shop, you have to pay four times as much as I ask and the work is two times as bad. In fact I still have some customers and I am only open on Friday and Saturday, but to be honest, sometimes almost nobody is coming. But let us see what the lady wants with her hair.” A classic cape was put around Helen’s neck and the barber looked for his clippers; he seemed to have quite a collection of clippers including even the old-fashioned hand clippers. He looked at Helen in the mirror. Expertly he studied Helen’s hair and said, “In my opinion it was cut about 7 weeks ago and was rather short at the sides and somewhat longer on top with very short bangs.”

“Better my husband explains how it must be done,” said my wife. “He usually cuts my hair because we also dislike those terrible unisex salons with a lot of glitter.”

The barber smiled and said, “Your husband did a good job.”

In fact I knew that it was hardly necessary to instruct the barber because he knew perfectly well how the haircut had looked like 7 weeks ago. “Well,” I said, “use a number 2 at the sides and back and the main part at the top with the #3. I do not need to tell you how you have to make the nice transitions. Maybe I may finish the front part myself because my wife is afraid that she will end with such terrible bangs consisting of an ugly straight line.”

The barber smiled and said, “Up to you. I have the feeling that you are not spoiling my nice job.”

The barber started his work, pushed my wife’s head forward and clicked on the clippers. In an amazing speed he removed most of the hair with a number 3 leaving a longer part at the front After that he started to cut the sides and back with a number 2, making much of the transitions over a comb. Taking off the #2 he removed more hair at the lower parts of the sides and the back till there was a nice transition from the very short parts to the somewhat longer hair on top. The whole procedure took only a few minutes and my wife looking at first somewhat afraid showed a broad smile. The barber said, “Well mister, you finish the job.”

I made the front part still shorter and cut the fringe very short and featherlike. The barber looked on approvingly and took over the scissors and to my wife’s surprise he cut the bangs even much shorter. We looked somewhat astonished but had to admit that the effect was even more striking, exposing the fine bone structure of my wife’s head even more. The barber picked up his clippers, switched them on again and almost in one turn removed the rest of the already very short sideburns. Humming he started to buzz the sides and back even shorter. My wife seemed to become younger with every minute. The barber stopped suddenly, nodded approvingly and said this was really a pleasure.

I kissed my wife on her short hair and offered the payment; 7 Irish pounds.

“Well, I only did half of the work,” said the barber. “So I’d better offer you a coffee.”

The barber said, “It is really a pity that I cannot offer you a job.”

“Well,” said my wife, “we will look for some customers and in that case my husband can help you, yes?”

“Of course,” said the barber, “I have place and clippers enough.” We made some more jokes and then we greeted our barber and looked for a supermarket and a bakery. Vaguely I remembered an old bakery with delicious cake-like bread. Suddenly we saw the bakery, which was still there but had been partly transformed to a coffee shop. One more cup of coffee would be nice certainly with a nice piece of cake. We were just sipping at our cups of coffee, when the door opened and our two girls, the black- and blonde-haired ones, looked inside.

“Oh heavens,” said the nice black-haired girl. “Look there!” and both of them stared at the attractive crewcut of my wife. The girls took a seat and then the black-haired one approached us and said, “Excuse us, but we saw you already yesterday and then my friend and I found your wife’s hair very attractive. We decided to go to this town to visit a hairdresser. But now,” and she hesitated, “now she is even more attractive with that extreme short hair. You must have been to an expert. Do you think that my friend and I can have our hair as short as yours?”

Seeing the extreme nice faces of the girls my wife could only say that in her opinion they would look great. Helen knows that I do not like to speak about my hair fetish, certainly not with unknown people, but she knows also that I like to cut hair. She gave me a wink and said, “You must know that the hair salon is surprisingly expensive. I paid 35 pounds.”

“Oh, it does not matter,” said the girl. “At home I pay something like that. For that money it must be quite a good hairdresser, but it must take quite a long time to cut the hair so precisely.”

“Oh that is sure,” said my wife. “You will be surprised how much time it will take.”

My wife said, “If you take a cup of coffee and wait for a moment I can accompany you to the shop and you can explain that you want to have your hair more or less in the same way I have it now.”

Somewhat vaguely Helen said to me, “You’d better go now and see if you can do that job at the shop of the old man.” I left the bakery in a hurry and went to our barber who of course was very surprised to see me again. I explained the situation and said we’d take the girls by surprise. “I will stay in the backroom till they come and you say that your colleague will come in a short time. If the ladies hesitate, just put them in your barber chairs and wrap both of them already a barber cape around the neck. Let my wife explain what they want. One of the girls has a ponytail. Just cut the ponytail and say that your colleague will finish the job. Then continue with the black-haired girl who wants her hair at least as short as my wife. So you can make again your quick job with the clippers. If we do it like this there is no risk that one of them will try to stop.”

Outside I saw my wife approaching with the girls, who hesitated when they saw the old shop.

My wife noticed their hesitation and just pushed them into the shop. She kindly greeted the barber and said, “These two girls are in love with my hair. I told them already that their looks are so extremely fine that they will look great with very short hair. But where is your assistant?” she asked. “You must imagine,” she said to the girls, “the barber and his assistant worked together to make this fine haircut.”

Before the girls could hesitate any longer the barber placed both of them in a chair and wrapped the hairdresser capes around their necks. Smiling he said, “You are lucky, my colleague will be back soon.” Smiling to my wife he said, “That means that the girls do not need to wait for hours before this job is finished.”

The barber took a big pair of scissors, went to the blonde-haired girl and to her surprise he cut at once the ponytail quite near her head. Smiling he said, “You cannot escape anymore, my colleague will help you as soon as he is back.” He approached now the other girl, looked at her hair and said, “It is at least 10-11 weeks ago that you visited a hairdresser. You had a perfect haircut, but I think you will look even better with the crewcut that you do now.

“Well, please bend your head forwards.” In between he had put a number 2 guard on the clippers. He clicked on the clippers and placed them at the nape of the girl. She did not know the humming sound and before she realized what happened the barber moved the clippers upward, going higher and higher, not stopping on the crown, but just moving on at the top of her head. Almost shocked the girl saw how the barber repeated this movement so very fast that she could not react at all, looking in astonishment at all the locks tumbling down. At the same time she realized that she enjoyed the humming sound of the clippers. Her friend was taken by surprise as well.

“Well, you have a lot of hair,” said the barber. “How does it feel?”

The girl took her hand from under the cape and felt the very short hairs. “Oh great,” she said.

“Ho, ho,” said the barber. “My job is not yet finished.” At that time I entered the shop from the backroom with an old barber’s coat and greeted the somewhat confused girls.

The barber greeted me and pointed at the blonde girl and said, “Can you finish that job, the lady likes her hair also as short as your wife has it now.”

My wife explained the situation and told that I usually cut her hair, also the very much-admired haircut that she had yesterday was my work.

At that moment the girls started to laugh also about the curious situation. “Well, let us finish the jobs,” I said, because I came to enjoy the Irish landscape and the weather is so extremely nice that it should be a pity to spend too much time inside. “Well what do you want?” The blonde girl said that she wanted her hair also very short. That meant that I took another clippers and started the job on the blonde’s head whose name was Brenda. As the blonde said that she liked her hair really very short, indicating only a few millimetres, I could start at once the job with a #1 attachment. Seeing Brenda’s hair the other girl, Joyce, wanted it also as short as that, even not disturbed by the warning that her white skin should shine through the short black hair. In fact it did not matter especially because her hair was so very dense.

As the hair became shorter and shorter the extreme nice faces of the girls, till an quarter of an hour ago partly hidden behind longer locks and extremely long bangs, appeared and the girls themselves were very satisfied by the result. The hair of my wife seemed now even long and she asked to make also her hair even shorter.

The barber enjoyed his work and I glanced more than happily at my wife’s hair that was shorter than ever.

The girls had to pay also 7 pounds each, but had to promise that they should buy some drinks for their barbers. Helen and I greeted again our barber and the two grinning girls.

Late that evening after a beautiful day we returned to E. and I had a pleasant evening with two extremely nice young ladies, with the shortest hair in the whole western part of Ireland.

The weather during the rest of the week was nice as well with the result that my wife and the girls became even more attractive with their nice suntanned faces.

 

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