The Summer Before College by SuperK1992
*This is not a true story, nor is it inspired by any true events.*
All my life I had had the same exact hairstyle. I had very curly hair that puffed up almost like a cross between a Jewfro and an Afro. It was about 6 inches long when wet, and I only cut it 3 or 4 times a year, usually just trims. But it was the summer between my senior year of high school and my freshman year of college that this all changed.
After my high school graduation ceremony, I was relieved to realize that I would never see most of these people ever again, aside from my core group of friends. I thought about how much I had become known for my hair over the years, and how this would be a perfect opportunity to try something totally new with my hair. If I hated it, I had the summer to grow it back out into something I was familiar with. If I loved it, this could become my new style, and there would be no shock when I moved across the state to my college.
I decided one day while at the mall to get a haircut much shorter than I had ever done before. I was extremely nervous, but I knew that this was the best possible time as a young adult to change my hair. I entered the shop, and started thinking about what exactly I should do. Should I just get a trim now? Shave the sides but keep some on top? Or even an all out buzz cut?
I started chatting with the lady that was going to cut my hair, and explained to her the dilemma I was in. After some discussion, we decided that I didn't have the head for a full buzz cut, but that I should try cutting it clipper short on the back and sides. I agreed, and figured I could always get it cut again somewhere else if this style was a disaster. She started out by buzzing the back and sides, the first time ever clippers had been used on my hair. She said it was 1/2 inch long, but it seemed much shorter to me. The top was cut down to about two inches, and blended in with the buzzed sides. In the moment, I decided this cut was fine for now; so I paid, left the mall, and headed home. The whole way home, I couldn't stop running the buzzed part of my hair.
The whole evening, I started thinking that I might want it a little shorter. I already had the shortest haircut I had ever had, but why not go even further? I was home alone for the week, as I was an only child and my parents had gone on a vacation to celebrate their anniversary. My father had always kept his hair clippers in my bathroom. I decided impulsively to make the cut shorter, knowing very well that I might regret it in a bit.
I pulled out the clippers and checked out the guards. There they all were, ranging from 1/8 inch to a full inch. Without thinking, I snapped the #8 guard on the clippers and went down the middle. Half of the length that was left up top came tumbling down into the sink. For some reason, I was really enjoying this. After cutting this, I thought that the sides now looked to long compared to the top. I snapped the #2 guard on the clippers.
Without further thought, I started buzzing the sides down to a #2, forgetting that I had no idea how I was going to do the back. Immediately, I was shocked at how much shorter this was than the #4. I could clearly see my scalp, and it felt like I was almost bald. I kept cutting though, using a combination of mirrors to cut the back as best as I could. Blending it into the top was the hardest, as I had absolutely no experience cutting hair before, let alone my own. After touching it up as best I could, I took a shower, then went out to get something to eat.
Honestly, I felt naked out in public. But, no one was treating me any differently than when I had the Afro. None of these people knew what kind of hair I had just hours before. After eating, I got a strange desire to go even shorter. I saw a small barber shop, and went in.
At this point, I was feeling adventurous. I didn't care about my hair anymore, or what my parents would say when they would get back from vacation. I hesitated for a second, then told him to surprise me with whatever he wanted. The barber smiled and picked up his clippers. I started to feel like this was a major mistake. The barber popped a guard on the clippers, but this didn't look like much of a guard at all. It was a #1, and he plunged it right down the middle of what was left of my hair. I was in shock. I didn't say anything though, and the cutting continued.
Just when I thought he was going to move onto the sides, he set the clippers down and picked up some different, smaller ones. These clippers had tiny teeth, and no guard was attached. I soon realized what these were, as he started buzzing the side of my head even more, leaving nothing but skin in its path. The barber finished shaving off all the hair on the back and sides of my head, then told me he'd be right back.
He came back with shaving cream and a straight razor. I thought to myself, "Do I stop him?" But then I remembered, I told him it was his choice. He lathered up all around my head and started shaving, leaving just 1/8 of an inch of hair on the top of my head, while the rest was shaved smooth. This was an incredible feeling, something I had never felt before. I headed home, in shock with what had just happened. I couldn't believe it when I had buzzed by hair to a 8 on top/ 2 on the sides. This was a 1 on top with the sides shaved absolutely smooth.
The next morning, I got up to take a shower. My reflection in the mirror almost startled me, as if I couldn't believe that my 3 haircuts from yesterday were not a dream. Before getting in the shower though, I decided to shave my face. I lathered up my face, but didn't stop there. I kept rubbing the shaving cream higher and higher up my face, and onto the top of my head. Once again, I wasn't thinking. I took the razor and slid it across the top of my head, the same head that 24 hours ago had been covered by a 6 inch Jew fro.
After 10 minutes, I couldn't believe what I had just done. I had shaved my head bald with a razor, for absolutely no reason. Now I really felt naked, but also free. While shaving daily seemed like a lot of work, I thought about keeping a no guard clipper shave. This way, I could cut my own hair in college to save money, and I wouldn't have to worry about styling my hair in college.
Fast forward 3 months, and I was settling into my new life in college. I had started to let my hair grow a little over the summer again, but impulsively buzzed it back to nothing the week before leaving for school. I packed the clippers with me, knowing that I would make good use of them over the next few years.
As I was unpacking in my dorm, my new roommate came in. He had hair that almost resembled an Afro...