Shock of middle-aged man in amazing Turkish barber experience

I found myself in the hairdressers the other day. Actually I say hairdressers, but this was very much a barbers. Young Turks with razors cutting hair like sheep shearers in a hurry.

I watched as a student took photos of his completed haircut with his phone, presumably to show off his new style on Instagram, Twitter or Snapchat. I did think that at my age maybe I should do the same, not to share with my limited Facebook followers but more to remember

1) when I actually had had it cut, and

2) what it looked like, so I could ask for the same again if I liked it.

Anyway I duly took my turn, allowing the barber to choose a style very different to what I thought I’d asked for. A blur of razors and low numbers resulted in something like a middle age skinhead. I’m not balding, but looking in the mirror I got a good idea of what I might look like if I did.

It’s part of the problem of wearing glasses. They ask “this much off?” while looking at you in the mirror. However because you took your glasses off, all you can see is a blurred outline of something. I know you’re shouting, put them on again, but then it’s a kerfuffle and you only end up saying “that’s fine” anyway. You might as well just miss the kerfuffle.

Flaming Turkish barber…

However once my Turkish barber friend had finished cutting I entered a whole new set of experiences. First my eyebrows were shaved, cutting those rogue hairs away. Then my ears and nose were flamed. Finally a following a nod and smile, a hot towel smothered my face. Aside from the obvious health and safety risks, it was clearly a sign of how things were moving on in the world of male grooming. I’m not sure at what point I should stop worrying about the hairs emerging from my ears and nose, and the quality of my skin tone, but for a while I was flattered they still thought I should.

At least I was until I was asked if I paid the concession (over 65) rate. It did however give me a clue that I have at least another 15 years of male grooming in me.

God knows what my father would have made of it all.

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