Crewcut in Norway

Crewcut in Norway by Barber Jos

Hiking in the Norwegian mountains was the thing we liked most of all. How many times did I want to finish our relationship, living apart together was not what I liked. Most of all I was fed up with all the infidelity. How many times I asked her to come back and the reverse was also true. Just when I finished the whole business, Joan was ringing again saying that she regretted the way she hurt me and knowing my hair fetish she would ask her hairdresser to cut it somewhat shorter than usual, but it did not last long and then she was irritated again when I was running too often with my fingers over the clipper-shaved sides and back of her head. She started to complain that only she had her hair short because I liked it that much and how many times she threatened that this was her last visit to a hairdresser. I did not see her for ten years, but some months ago I met an old colleague, who showed me lot of recent photographs and to my surprise Joan was present on some of them. She still sported very short hair, almost the same kind of crewcut that maybe 10 years ago had been cut by that hairdresser somewhere in a northern town in Norway.

We had quite a nice holiday for almost 6 weeks and just before we left Joan went to her hairdresser and I, not allowed to say or ask anything about it, was rather disappointed when her hair was much longer than last year. Most people considered even that length as short, but it disappointed me rather much and even Joan herself did not like the result very much , cutting much of the bangs showing more of her beautiful forehead.

Anyway we had a wonderful time, the weather and the mosquitoes were not too bad and when it was rainy we found a good place in the log cabins that could be hired everywhere. Gradually Joan’s hair was longer and longer and I suggested a barber in one of the towns, which was not easy as most of the hairdressers in the smaller places were nowadays the unisex shops, where both men and women were welcome. I remembered far too well that some years ago we had found such a shop and that the haircutting girl working there did not seem or want to understand that Joan wanted her hair really very short at the sides and the back, just using clippers. She was cutting with the scissors over the comb and the result was far from wished and the only use of the clippers was to remove some hairs left at the nape. The haircut was quite expensive and in fact we just wasted money.

Last year the result was more or less the same. Joan, pulling her hair straight up, had indicated how much had to be cut on top, but the girl thought that she wanted very long spikes. Using a lot of lacquer she created indeed a spiky haircut, but it looked crazy and the girl who made a lot of work of it did not understand Joan when she asked her to thin out the hair. After all Joan took a brush herself and tried to lay her hair flat again. At first she refused to pay and I had to talk a lot to explain that there was a lot of miscommunication, caused by her inability to speak the Norwegian language as well as she thought herself. That was a difficult matter as Joan herself thought that her command of that language was rather good. I could not deny that we had a lot of pleasure of it when we had to buy goods in a shop, but often enough I noticed that the Norwegians expected much more understanding than she had..

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Anyway this year I did not like to promote a visit to a hairdresser, as I expected a lot of difficulties for which I used to be blamed in the end.

On our way to the north we passed the town where last year the spiky haircut had been done. I even had the courage to make some jokes about it and just when we left the town I saw a real barber. I advised her that it might be a good place to go if she still had any courage to go for a haircut in Norway. Knowing that she had been to some barbers during her holidays in Asia I suspected that this was maybe a solution. With a grin she indicated that those guys were indeed much better for short haircuts.

We did not speak about her hair anymore and as said we had wonderful weeks. Four weeks later we approached again this town on our way south and to my surprise Joan asked to look out for the barber, saying that she wanted to have a haircut and deciding that I could have a haircut as well. I remembered the place very well, soon we parked the car in front of the shop and entered, expecting to see a male barber inside. To our surprise two women were working there and the youngest one said that it was a shop for men only and that Joan would have to go to another place. I expected Joan to be fed up, but she declared in her best Norwegian that she wanted to have a boy’s haircut. At that moment the older woman, maybe 45 years old and sporting a crewcut herself, came and indicated that she was willing to cut Joan’s hair. I tried to have a conversation with Joan about her haircut, but as usual I had to keep my mouth shut and there I was sitting wondering what disaster could happen. After 10 minutes Joan was asked to take a seat and I was curious to see what happened.

Clippers that had been used on the last customer’s head were still lying in front of Joan and she indicated the barber that they should be used to cut her hair at the sides and the back of her head. Soon the clippers were switched on and the barber, using a comb, started to clipper shave her hair. It amused me to see the timid Joan, with her chin pressed on her breast, shorn like a sheep. But it was clear that the barber knew quite well what she was doing. Most amusing was the white area of skin that had been covered by hair, whereas the rest of the skin of our heads was dark brown after weeks outside in nature. It was clear that the barber made the hair at the sides extremely short, almost shaving away the sideburns as well. A cap of long dark hair was left on top and I wondered what might happen now.

Again like last year Joan took some strands and showed how much hair should be cut off. To my chagrin, not very much, but anyway the barber proceeded, taking strands between her fingers and cutting of all hair that was sticking out from between them. It seemed much more than indicated and at long last the barber combed the hair forwards and with some snips she made the long bangs much shorter. Joan looked, frowning, in the mirror and started to explain in that “perfect” Norwegian that she wanted the barber to use thinning scissors. To explain this she took again strands of the remaining hair between her fingers and to my surprise I saw that most of the strand was sticking out. To be honest I noticed that the barber did not realize that the thinning scissors should be used and she even pointed to her own very short hair. Joan, thinking that she made a joke, nodded and that was the sign for the barber to cut off most of the remaining hair. The barber lifted locks with the comb and with the comb quite near Joan’s scalp she cut of almost all of it. It was clear that Joan did not know how to react and that was the reason that at high speed most of the hair was removed, whereas Joan really kept her mouth shut. Happily she could not see me via the mirror and did not notice that the barber consulted me with a question mark on her face to see if I agreed with the whole thing. That is why she did not see that I showed between my fingers a length of less than one centimetre.

The result of the cutting was that part of the hair started to point upward and that resulted in a renewed use of the clippers. The barber put an attachment on the clippers (no.3 as I learned later) and just placed the clippers behind the bangs. I heard an “Oh no” from Joan, but the clippers were already on their way. Joan realized far too well that nothing could be done and just watched what happened. I can still see the clippers moving over her head and all those locks tumbling down. It was crazy to see that first shorn lane, dividing the rest of the longer hair into two parts. For a moment I wondered if Joan might start to cry, but later I learnt that she started to like the feeling of the humming clippers. Soon the rest of the hair was removed leaving that neat brush, with a fringe that was made wispy with the thinning scissors that only now were taken from a drawer

“That is a nice surprise,” was my only comment, having no courage to show that the misunderstandings were clear to me. I only remarked that I was happy that I had kept my mouth shut and asked if she wanted to surprise me. For a moment she doubted, but the misunderstanding was clear enough.

My hair was cut as well, but it was left much longer than hers. It was nice weather and I was almost jealous when she liked it to feel the sun and wind on her scalp.

Later we found a nice place for our tent near a crystal-clear lake and I remember how I liked to feel my fingers running over that short hair. That night we made love and for the first time Joan was stimulated as well when I rubbed that beautiful short-haired brush.

Soon it was the end of our last holiday. Joan seduced another lover and I did not like anymore that stupid way in which we were (not) communicating

This summer my present wife and I go to Norway. I wonder if one of these days we will enter that barbershop.

Comments are always welcome. barberjos@lycos.com

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