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C'mon - You Know What You Want by BaldSurfer


I always had unremarkable hair. Never too long, never too short. Basic Super Cuts job - 4-5 inches long on top, 1-2 on the sides, parted on the side. Boring. At 25, I couldn't remember ever having a different style. I was never very confident about my looks, and was always afraid to make any radical changes. But I was always fascinated by short haircuts. I was always jealous of guys in crisp buzz cuts. As shaved heads became more common, I found myself staring every time I saw one. I was especially interested when I'd see a guy who'd obviously jut started shaving his head, with the marked difference in color where the hair used to be. And judging by the completely white scalps, more and more guys seemed to be shaving off full heads of hair. What would make a guy do that?

As buzzes and shaves became common, I found myself walking by local barber shops and looking in the windows, hoping to see a radical transformation in progress. Every time I saw a buzz in progress, I'd linger, staring through the window until I was noticed. Then I'd get embarrassed and quickly move along. But I'd always be drawn back another day to stare again. As summer approached, I found that on Saturdays, the shop was always busy, and many more people - kids, teens and adults - were getting sheared. I'd stare in the window for a few minutes, walk away, circle the block, and stop to watch again. It became my weekly habit.

Then, one Saturday at the end of June, the shop was full and it seemed everyone was getting buzzed. And as I stood watching, I saw a long haired college age kid sit down in the chair, and a moment later the barber put bare clippers to his head and started shaving a foot of hair off right to the skin. I had to get a closer look. I was due for a Super Cuts visit, but figured these barbers could probably do just as good a job, so I'd go in, wait my turn, and get to watch this transformation up close. So I walked in and found an empty chair right behind the kid getting shaved. The barber spun the chair around as he continued skinning the kid with clippers, and I could see a huge smile on the kid's face - he seemed so happy to be losing all his hair. When the barber was done with the clippers, he asked the kid if he really wanted to "go all the way". The kid gave an enthusiastic "Hell, yeah" and the barber covered his whole head with shaving cream and shaved his head with a straight razor. Then he wrapped his head in a hot towel, lathered and shaved it again. The kid's face was tan, but his head was shiny and pale white. The kid reached up, ran his hand over his gleaming head and could barely contain his enthusiasm. Meanwhile, I was trying to contain a pretty obvious erection that I'd gotten while I watched. I hoped to stay in my seat long enough for it to subside, but as the bald kid left, the barber brushed the hair off his chair, pointed at me and said "You're up, pal." I tried to "rearrange" myself as I stood up and walked to the chair.

The barber draped the cape over me, I told him I wanted a light trim, just to clean things up, but he said "No you don't. I've seen you before. You're the guy that always watches through the window. But you only seem to stop when someone's getting something really short. You really want to take it all off, don't you?"

"No," I stammered. I was suddenly nervous and embarrassed. "I guess I do stop and look sometimes, but I never thought about getting a cut like that myself. Just a trim, please."

"C'mon," the barber said, "We both know what you want. Do you think I didn't see you get hard watching that last kid get shaved? If that excited you, imagine how much you'll enjoy getting it done to you."

I said I could never shave my head bald like that, and the barber laughed and said we could start off slowly, with a longer buzz, and then I could decide how much further to go. My heart was racing, my face was red, and I started sweating. What had i gotten myself into? I wanted to tell him to forget the whole thing and run out of the shop. But maybe he was right. No, there was no "maybe". I wanted to try it.

Once I admitted it to myself, I felt empowered. I felt brave. Over the course of a few seconds, I'd gone from terror to courage and before I knew it, I was saying "You're right. I've always wanted a buzzcut. But let's do it right. I don't want to go halfway. Buzz it really short." The barber laughed and said "I knew it!". He suggested a #2 on top with faded back and sides. I had no idea what that meant, and after he explained it, I said "Go for it".
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I was ready. I was excited. Then he took the bare clippers, the same ones he'd just used to shave the kid before me, placed them at the bottom of my sideburn and pushed upward, shaving me down to the skin halfway up my head! I must have looked as shocked as I felt, because he quickly assured me that this was just the bottom of the fade and that it would all blend together. With a wide bald strip up the side of my head, I really had no choice but to trust him and continue. He worked his way around my whole head, exposing bare scalp all the way up to above my ears. I looked like Moe from the Three Stooges. When that was finally done, he snapped a guard on the clippers, turned them back on and ran them up the side of my head reducing the rest of the sides and back to about 1/4 inch. After doing that around my whole head, he took the clippers, placed them on my forehead and started shearing off the top to that same 1/4 inch. It wasn't until he took that first swipe across the top, taking off 5 inches of hair, that I really saw the radical change. Now I was starting to look like a different guy. Withe every stroke from front to back, my long hair fell, leaving crisp buzzed stubble behind. In a few minutes it was done. I stared at the new guy looking back at me in the mirror. My head had a good shape for this. I looked awesome. And I thanked goodness that a loose cape covered my jeans and hid my excitement.

The barber then used a few different clippers to blend the bald sides into the buzzed top. Then he took an electric razor, like the one I used to shave my face, and ran it over the bald bottom of my head. The scratchy noise was amplified in my head and it felt so odd t have a razor run over my scalp. Then he placed hot lather around the edges and scraped them clean with a razor.

He said "I'd ask you how you like it, but that smile on your face says it all. He smiled, winked at me and said "I'm going to wash my hands for a second while you compose yourself. Then you should be ready to stand up." He came back, removed the cape and asked if I'd be back. I told him I was definitely going to become a regular. "Maybe we can convince you to get the full head shave one of these days." I laughed at the thought, but as I walked out, rubbing the back of my bare scalp, I knew he was probably right.



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