The first Monday of every month was my favourite. I’m strolling down the long corridors of Southside Correctional College for girls, towards my office. I’ll explain why the first Monday of every month is my favourite soon. At my door is a parcel, something I’ve been waiting desperately for the last month. I pick up the parcel and unlock the door to my office. My office or shop, which ever you choose to call it is situated on the second level, overlooking the entrance to the building. Lining one wall is a long wooden bench, the opposite wall comprises of a mirror, which in front of sits my pride and joy, my barbers chair. Yes, I am a prison barber. Although this is not exactly a prison, more of a institution which straightens out young female troublemakers, the haircuts I sometimes give could be classified as prison.
Getting back to my chair, its a breathtaking old fashion style chair with red soft leather cushioning. The frame of the chair is steel, along with the footrest and circular base of the chair. It’s terrifying to look at, which is probably why I like it. Every morning I sit in my chair, put my heels up, have a coffee and read a magazine until my skills are required.
My job isn't a difficult one. At this school the aim is eradicate the rebellious behaviour in these girls and turn them into proper young ladies. First thing which they learn is that hair is a privilege. Every girl is stripped of their hair in a short suitable style until they can demonstrate that they are lady like enough to deserve that privilege. My job is to determine which haircut a girl shall receive, and then to execute that haircut. Most girls are pretty good after their first haircut, I usually make it an experience to deter the girls from booking an other unwanted appointment. However, there is always some girls who don’t quite fall into line, they are what I call regulars. The new girls and regulars are easily spotted around the school as their hair is cropped very short, even shaven, depending on my mood.
Getting back to the first Monday of every month. At about 9:30 (in 20mins) a bus load of new girls will arrive. This happens at the beginning of every month on the first Monday. It sounds cruel I know, but I enjoy the first haircut so much. To see the terror in those eyes and any confidence sapped as I soon as the first cut is made. Not mention the strugglers. There is always one or two amongst the group who refuse haircuts. Not once in the last 5 years has a new girl or any girl sat in my chair and left without a haircut that i intended to give. Most girls are so terrified that as soon as they are in the chair they freeze, makes it so much easier. If girls are really trouble, they I can resort to restraints, but that’s not usually necessary.
So I sit cross legged in my chair sipping my coffee and admiring my new black leather stiletto boots which I bought on the weekend. They give me a few extra inches to tower over the girls, not to mention that they look hot! I almost forget about my new parcel! I know what it is, but it’s still exciting. I carefully open the box and wrapped in plastic is my brand new nylon barbers cape. I take the plastic off and gently unfurl the large cape. It’s a dark red in colour and has the softest feel to it with the neck lined with snap studs. I open the cape right out and thrust it forward, it makes that crisp swishing sound. I cant wait to use it on the first girl in my chair today. I fold the new cape over the back of my chair and hang the old one up back in the closet. My old cape was nice too, black but had a velcro closure. When the girls are squirming in the chair it would often come loose. With the snap studs on my new cape, there’s no chance of that problem.
Just then the bell rings. I walk over to the window and just as I expect, a small bus load of new girls drives through the large gates. I smile and resume my position in the chair to finish my coffee. In about 10mins I expect to get a call from downstairs, letting me know the girls are on the way. After taking the last sip of my coffee I wash out the glass and begin checking that everything is ready. Scissors, combs, clippers laid out on the bench in front of the mirror. I fill the tissue dispenser up with a new roll as the old one is running low, then I study my work area and decide that everything is ready. Examining my own image tussle my looks to give them a bit of volume. My hair is blonde in colour with recent blonde highlights throughout. It sits just off my shoulders in a nice simple layered style. Today I’m wearing a nice black skirt to my knee and black singlet top with my leather boots of course! After preparing my own hair and clothes, the phone rings, “They’re on their way up” says the voice on the other end.
I smile and put down the receiver. In only minutes the first one of the girls will be sitting right here in this chair. About a minute passes and I here “halt!”, bellowed from one of the staff. The door swings open and a group of ten 16 year old girls file in. “Sit!” yells their superior. The girls obediently sit on the long bench. I stand in front of the girls with the other staff member. Her name is Miss Steel, feared by many of the girls throughout the school. Her title is disciplinary officer. She is usually the one who assigns girls appointments to me, and also directs t the new girls to my office. She is my age, a good looking woman, not one that you would probably expect to be a disciplinary officer at a correctional school. She is about 6 ft tall, with a nice blonde bob with a clippered neck at the moment. She often comes in for haircuts so we talk a lot and get a long really well. I would originally just trim her ends then introduced to my chair and the world of short hair. Now she loves haircuts and his sitting in my chair once a fortnight.
“This is Miss Grace,” referring to me. “She is our prison hairdresser, or as you will soon find out, barber. As mentioned downstairs, hair is considered a privilege at this school, and until you troublemakers can prove to us that you are actually ladies, you wont be permitted any hair past ear length!”. After that comment you could have cut the air with a knife, the girls were all stunned. “So now more fancy shampoos, conditioners or blowdryers for you little princesses. Now your all getting your haircut now, whether you like it or not, and your behaviour will decide the style given to you. If you cooperate I think you will find that you will leave the chair with a presentable and neat feminine haircut. However, if you choose to fight….well then the style is left up to Miss Grace here who has a licence to do whatever she likes”.
I noticed tears rolling down a few cheeks and plenty of faces looking at the ground. Like I mentioned earlier, there was always one troublemaker who tried to stand up against the haircut. They were usually made an example of first. “So who’s first to get it over and done with?” asked Miss Steel. There was absolute silence until one girl, like I predicted, said “You can’t cut out hair! You cant! Your not allowed!”. Miss Steel smiled, “looks like we have got our first volunteer Miss Grace”.
I whipped the new cape off the back of my chair and lowered the pedal causing the chair to descend. The girl continued to scream and yell, but it was no use. Miss Steel walked over to her and grabbed her ponytail. The girl screeched in pain whilst she was dragged in my direction. This particular girls hair was quite long. It fell at about her mid back in little blonde curls, which would soon be on my floor. The girl struggled and struggled but was absolutely now match for the strength of Miss Steel. She lifted the girl into the high chair and forced her back to lie against the soft leather. Seeing as it was the first girl , I wanted to set an example by restraining this one. In my top draw was a large black leather belt. Whilst Miss Steel held the quivering girl still, I put the belt around her waist and fastened it at the back so she couldn’t move. Next her arms were quickly fastened to the armrests to restrict any movement at all. Miss Steel smiled and looked at the young girl in the eye. After I pumped the chair to a higher level, I picked up my brand new cape once more and gave it a quick rustle. I then leaned forward and splayed the long red nylon cape over the terrified girl and the whole chair. I noticed then that this cape was much bigger than the last as it covered everything except the footrest. Holding the cape by the ends I drew it closer to her neck before letting it settle on her shoulders. Next I reached for a long length of fresh white tissue which I had re-filled earlier. The girl look petrified as I tore the long strip loose and re-positioned myself behind her. Reaching forward I stretched the long thick strip over the girls petite neck and bunched it tight at the back. Next the cape was drawn tight around the tissue and pinned closed with a loud snap.
“Well now
, where did causing trouble get you young lady?” I asked with an inquisitive tone. She began to sob and looked at the floor as I undid her pony tail and let it sprawl out over the new nylon. I teased the girls hair with my hands for a bit just to get used to it then I reached my clippers which hung on the shelf. They were large black and white clippers which still had traces of stubble on the blade. I removed the blade and replaced it with a number #1 comb. I could feel the girls heart beating so fast as she anticipated the first pass. The girls on the bench all sat with their mouths open wide, just what I wanted, fear. The clippers were switched on with a pop followed by the hum of the blades. Whilst caping the girl I had decided on a number #1 crew cut. For the time being I would clip her down to that then perhaps go from there if need be. For complete dramatic effect I positioned the clippers at her forehand, cupped the back of her head with an open left hand and drew the large humming machine back through her curly blonde locks. The clippers changed their tune as they bit into the hairline of the young girl and soon left a trail of stubble in their wake. Tears were gushing down the girls face and I flicked my wrist at the end of each pass causing hair to snake down into the girls lap, depositing itself in the little dip before her knees, or falling all the way to the floor. Pass after pass I soon left the girls forehead shorn so short you could see the whiteness of her skin.
After that section was complete I stood behind her, pushed her head to her lap and ran the clippers smoothly up her neck. The cut hair would fall to her shoulders and rain down the cape with a sliding sound. As more hair was cut I started to get a lot faster and more aggressive. The clippers were continually driven into the mass of curls, spilling long blonde locks everywhere. With the nape shorn down to the appropriate length, the sides were next. With the clippers positioned next to her ear and I quickly ran them up past her temple over and over. This process was repeated on both sides until the only hair left on her little head was stubble. With my clippers shut off I put my open palm on the top of her head and forced her to look in the mirror. I think she had learnt her lesson. Finally the clippers were switched back on just to cover and hairs that had missed. After I was content with her haircut, I picked up my large fluffy duster and began quickly dust away stray hairs.
Miss Steel walked over to the chair with a large smile on her face. She bent down and kissed the girl on the top of the head, “Welcome to South Side young lady, lets hope we don’t have to book you another appointment with Miss Grace anytime soon!!”. She then spun the chair around to face the girls. The girl looked at the ground in embarrassment. Miss Steel placed her hand under the girls chin, lifting her head up forcing her to look at her class mates, “don’t you want to show your friends your new haircut…?” she laughed. I smiled and continued dusting her neck where a large amount of clippings had accumulated. Next I unsnapped my beautiful new cape and carefully peeled it and the length of tissue from the girls neck, spilling all the cut hair to the floor. After undoing the restraints, I placed the toe of my boot on the pedal and caused the chair to drop the floor. The girl hesitantly got out of the chair sobbing.
I aggressively shook out the cape to rid it of any clippings before calling the next girl to the chair, “all right then, who is next…?”. The girls sat still, terrified. Well if no one will volunteer I will just select someone myself. Then a red head girl slowly got off the bench. “That’s it, come and have a seat”, I said whilst giving the cape another quick shake. The girl gingerly placed her backside on the edge of my chair. I put a hand on each shoulder and dragged her backside into the backrest. Her hair was long too, a beautiful red colour that was straight and hung to about her shoulders. I tucked the cape under my arm and quickly put her hair up so I could prep her. After her hair was off her neck I flicked open the cape and settled it over her. Following the tissue around her neck I snapped the cape closed very tight. As I pulled the cape together at the studs, I could feel her neck trembling.
As this girl was so brave I had decided to give her a short bob. It would at least give her some length to play with if she needed. After wetting the girls hair hair down I began to section and cut. Before long her hair was reduced to a nice short bob just below eye level. The white floor was now littered with red and blonde curls as I looked down at my feet. As I dusted the girl off and lifted the cape away I could see that she was slightly pleased with her haircut. This prompted excellent behaviour from the rest of the new students. Hair and more hair of different colours and textures built up as more and more girls stepped in and out of chair.
The last girl I was cutting was receiving a new short blonde crop. It was very close to her head but I think it really suited her. With the last snip of the scissors I styled her hair a little before reaching for my brush. Her face and neck were dusted free of hairs and I unsnapped the cape. She breathed a sigh of relief as the tissue that had so tightly surrounded her neck, was removed along with the large nylon cape. When the chair reached the ground I helped her off the seat and the cape folded neatly over the back of the chair. In front of me sat 10 new students with perfect haircuts, it had been a great morning. “Hopefully I wont be seeing any of you ladies here for unwanted haircuts for the rest of your time at this school. However, if you do want a normal haircut of your choice, or trimming of split ends when your hair grows out, you are able to make an appointment any time”.
Miss Steel lead the girls out of the room and I reached for my broom. Within minutes I had swept up the piles of hair and neck tissue which surrounded the base of my chair. Five minutes later the door opened again, it was Miss Steel, “Got time for one more?”. I smiled and took the cape off the back of the chair. She sat herself down and relaxed as I stretched the tissue around her neck. The cape was thrown over her and snapped tight, “What can we do for you?” I asked, “Just the usual” she replied. I smiled and reached for my clippers, I loved the first Monday of every month.
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