DAY 266: Being a barber

I’VE always loved the idea of starting again – whether it’s doing a runner to another country, or bringing down the cleaver on gangrenous limbs of your life – and clipping off hair seems to be the physical embodiment of that.

I haven’t seen Ajay since school – 20 years – and he’s gone from being the most frequently caned/suspended/expelled kid I know, to a dapper, thoughtful gent with three barber shops to his name and a boxer’s physique.

He meets me at the station bearing a latte, responding to caffeine pointers that he has picked up from the blog. In fact, it soon turns out he has the upper hand, in that he’s completely across everything I’ve done and thought for the past 265 days. That never fails to puzzle me at first.

After some wry chuckling about how people should never be judged on what they were like at school (fyi, I was a stuck-up cow with a full arsenal of filthy looks, several big guns of which were aimed in Ajay’s direction), he hands over the tools and takes a chair.

I’m answerable for some atrocious haircuts, from clipping my own, gung-ho style, a bit like this…

…to maiming other people’s with my signature knife-and-fork look.

Today, though, Ajay’s talking me through it.

With the scissors and comb both in right hand, I comb up chunks through the fingers of my left hand, then cut across the top in a straightish line. Once the crown of the head’s all done, I take to the rest with the clippers. They’re set to a No.4, but as Ajay’s brother points out, at times I’m achieving a No.2. At school Ajay always used to sport tramlined eyebrows and hair like this, though…

…so I’m not too concerned.

There’s a bit of an unsightly ‘stepping’ effect going on, so I’m told how to hold the clippers over the comb to grade the hair lengths. Then it’s down to the mini clippers, to neaten around the ears and neck.

Easy!

Keeper? After Ajay’s brother steps in and whisks everything down to a No.2 it’s clear there’s no harm done, so I might keep having a go.