ENSHROUDED

Jimmy

One day, a rich-looking man entered the barber shop and, being a phenomenon, those barbers who had no costumers yet alerted themselves to serve the man who might give them a big tip. Ferdinand and Jimmy had customers. The other four prepared themselves.

“Haircut Sir?” chorused the four.

“Yes but…I’m waiting for my son,” the customer said.

“You may seat for a while, Sir,” Chit said who was sweeping the mountains of hair on the floor.

“Thank you.”

When Jimmy was done with his customer, the rich-looking man suddenly stood up and went to his cutting area.

“Barber’s cut please,” Jimmy’s new customer requested.

As Jimmy began to work, his fellow barbers were backbiting him.

Damn that faggot!

He always gets the best customer.

I thought he’s waiting for his son? Was that an alibi?

He might give him as much as the fee.

On the other hand, Jimmy was thinking, Seems like I can’t take a break. His stomach was thundering.

The price for ordinary haircut that time was already 50 Php for students and 60 Php for regulars. After the cutting his hair, the rich-looking customer gave Jimmy a violet bill.

“Thank you Sir, come again,” Jimmy said as he inserted his 100 pesos in his pocket.

“I will.”

When the customer was out, Cesar, whose cutting area was beside Jimmy’s, broke from silence.

“Hey Fanny Serrano…what’s you’re secret huh? Why do you always have the richest customers?”

“I dunno,” Jimmy replied. “Maybe it’s my being Fanny Serrano.”

Cesar gave a sarcastic laugh.

After a few minutes, another rich-looking customer sat at Jimmy’s cutting area.

Jimmy had a girlfriend, a waitress in a KTV bar.

“Babes, I want your hair red…too much of the brown days,” Cookie told Jimmy one night in the bar. Jimmy would go the place every night after work.

“What?!” Jimmy replied almost spilling the beer. “I dyed my hair with this color from bluish last month and now you want me become a brunette?”

“Do it…please…red hair makes me horny nowadays…”

Jimmy’s girlfriend had admitted that her fetish was colored hair. It was weird and Jimmy couldn’t adapt to it at first. When they made love, Cookie would lick his hair hungrily or rub her p*ssy on the colored strands. What kind of a woman fell in love with me?

“NO WAY! My friends at the barber shop already think that I’m gay…because of this damn hair!”

Silence.

Sobs.

Growls.

“WELL THEN! NO RED HAIR, NO S*X!”

It was loud. But the voice of a drunken man singing Frank Sinatra’s My Way at the table nearby overcame Cookie’s mouth.

“Shhh…alright…okay…fine…red hair…”

Cookie jumped joyfully like a little girl winning in jackstone. Then she returned to her barber lover and whispered slowly in his ears, “Exhaust me tonight. I wanna make love to your brown hair one last time…”