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My first headshave by T. Pern.


The first time I met my college roommate Robert, I was confused because we instantly became friends; I've never been much of a social person, so I was caught off-guard when we became friends so quickly. I honestly felt that it was too good to be true, forming a friendship so quickly, only after an hour of having achieved total independence from my family back home. We're both artists, we like similar music (except he listens to rap as well, which I am not too fond of), the only major differences were that he is athletic and a political science major, and I'm a sports-inept biology major.

Anyway, as I've already established, we get along perfectly.

After a couple of months, and many inside-jokes, we turned to making bets against each other, for fun. I guess we bring out a competitive side in each other, because these bets were pretty petty, but hey, they were a quick-fix for entertainment. These bets first started over discrepancies in factual knowledge (because neither he nor I was willing to concede to the other), and the loser would have to do little things, such as keep the room clean for a week, offer to pay for an entire dinner for the friend group, et cetera. One day, while we were arguing over the name of Picasso's seventeen year-old mistress (see, we even argue over art), before we decided to follow the pattern and make a bet, Robert's watch alarm went off.

"Oh s***, sorry Kevin, I just remembered I promised to pick up some orange juice for Alana (our friend who was sick at the time), so we'll settle this later I guess."
"Wait- are you walking out because you know I'm right?" I said.
"Lose the smirk Kevin, we both know I'm right, her name was Rosa, so we'll settle this after I take care of Alana. She'll be pissed if I don't follow through." He stuck his foot farther out the door.
"Yeah yeah, whatever man, believe what you want."

After he had left, I logged on to his laptop, because mine was dead and I didn't want to walk across the room to get the charger; I'm a lazy college student, what can I say? But what I found pulled up on Safari immediately caught my interest.

The page he had pulled up was a page discussing the pro's and con's of having a shaved head. I found this interesting for two reasons. The first is that he is completely anal retentive about getting the perfect spike in his hair, and going to the salon every so often to get a trim. I didn't think he would ever consider losing it.

The second is that I have always had an interest in hair. It's not something sexual, but I found haircuts interesting, and I have always liked it whenever someone played with my hair. And I have always been a little interested in shaving my head. The problem is, though, that when I change my haircut, I stick with it for a couple of years, and I have always been to afraid to do it, to self-conscious about how I may appear. I mean,I remember how a couple years ago, my two friends Tod and Max (they're twins) asked me to give them a high and tight for Tod and a complete headshave for Amrk because A) they wanted to lose the hair for the summer, B) they knew I would do it for free, and C), they assumed that because I am an artist, I wouldn't mess it up. I then essentially became their barber for the next couple years of high school because I had done a great job. I remember last year I came close to taking the plunge when I was getting intimate with my girlfriend, and she thought it may be fun to buzz off my locks as some sort of foreplay, because she liked short hair. But I wimped out.

Anyway, while I previously stated I was surprised to find that Robert was considering shaving his head, another thought crossed my mind. Maybe he was planning to shave my head if I lost this bet. That would be interesting, though, if he lost and had to lose his hair. I then decided that when he returned from Alana's, I would offer him the deal that whomever was correct would give the other a haircut of their choosing. I had a moptop, which he had commented on before, so I was almost positive that should he win, he would have me get a haircut like his, because he is so fond of the style. But would he? Was I willing to jump the gun, and risk my own hair? Yes, I thought, because Marie Therese Walter was the mistress's name, not Rosa Walter. I would win this and surprise him by actually giving him the haircut he seemed to be considering.

With the bet in mind, I went to the local drug store and picked up a pair of scissors and a pair of clippers, returned to my dorm, and waited.
Fifteen minutes later, Robert walked in.

"Damn, she is sick man. I went over there with my scarf around my mouth because she was coughing so much! I definitely don't want to catch what she has. But poor Alana, so sick. Why the smirk?"
"Oh nothing, I just am positive that the mistress's name was Marie Therese, not Rosa."
"One day you'll learn, my friend, that I am always right" Robert said teasingly.
Then I went for it.

"Want to make a wager, since you're so confident in your wrong answer?"
"I'll take that man, what punishment for yourself do you propose?"
"Well. Hmmmm. How about this. Whomever is correct gets to give the other a haircut of their choosing. I have the scissors and clippers if necessary."

"Seems like you;ve thought this out. Though don't worry, when I'm right and you're abashed for being wrong again, I'll clean up your moptop for you. I always thought you would look good with shorter hair."

We shook hands, and then took to the internet.
After a quick google search, Robert turned red-faced.

"Well, I uh, you see-"

"Take off your shirt, and sit in the chair buddy."

"Please be merciful" he said. His tone of voice had faded from cocky to sullen. But nonetheless, he sat in the chair.

"What do you have in mind?" he asked, as he was pulling off his shirt.

"You'll see man. Now fair warning, I'm going to start with the clippers. But don't worry- there's a guard on them." I lied.

I took the guard up, pushed his head down, and as the clipper came to life with a loud buzzing sound, I made my first stroke up towards the crown of his head. There was no guard, so I was greeted by pale white skin.

"How short are you going in the back?"

"Don't worry, I'm just giving you a very traditional buzzcut."

His eyes widened and his mouth shut abruptly. Before he could say something, I quickly took the clippers and raced it down from his forehead to the crown of his head. The hair fell down onto his face, which was now in horror. But he didn't know that there was another white strip down the middle of his head.
"I guess it's too fix anything now" he said as he shook the hair off of his face, only for them to land on his abs.
"Good Robert" I said, patronizing him.
As I continued to move the clippers about his perfectly shaped head (as I found out after a couple more swipes), I noticed something when I looked down.

He was becoming aroused by this haircut.

"you seem to be enjoying this, Robert." He gulped as he noticed.

I continued to use the clippers to expose his increasingly bare head. Finish up the back. Move towards the sides.

"Don't be creeped out man" Robert started, "but I like haircuts. A lot." he seemed nervous.

"Nah, it's fine, I once almost let my girlfriend in high school buzz my hair off as foreplay, I understand you."

"Ah"

By now, I took the clippers, and slowly moved over the top of his head, sending the remaining hair down into his lap, which had risen some more.

"Almost finished" I said.

He grumbled. "thank God. So how long is this going to take to grow out?"

"I'm not sure Rob, but you can look in the mirror and judge for yourself." I handed him the mirror.

He gasped when he saw a bald man looking back. He jumped up and turned around.

"Dude! What the f***?! Why did you...how could...why?"

He looked at me with a desperate face. Then I actually observed what I had done. His jaw line seemed more prominent, and he actually looked good. He looked handsome, he looked sharp.

"I actually think this shaved head suits you. You actually do look pretty sharp."

His bewilderment eased a bit.
"So why did you shave my head, man? You know I am pretty anal about my hair."

"Well, my laptop died, and I couldn't find my charger, so I used yours, and when I opened Safari, I had found you were reading a page on the pros and cons of being bald. So I...returned the favour, like any good friend." There. That should calm him down.

He was embarrassed. But that didn't last long, because he reached up and felt his sand-papered head, and smiled. But it was a smug smile.
For some reason, I felt compelled to rub his head. So I went in playfully to rub the shining white dome, but it was my mistake.

As I reached for my masterpiece, he grabbed me, and pushed me into the chair. I heard the roar of the clippers.

S***, I thought. I tried to struggle out as I realized what was about to happen, but muscles bulging, he restrained me, and a second later, I felt a cool tingling sensation as the clippers swept up the back of my head.

It was my turn to jump up in bewilderment. I turned to face him, still shirtless, but now hairless and holding the dreaded buzzers, and he replied "I thought I would be a good friend, and help you out with your hair. You know, I really think you will like this."

As there was nothing I could do, I in turn took my shirt off, revealing my somewhat developed abs and chest (not as defined as his body) and said "Give me a good shave. I've wimped out too much in the past."

he smiled. "You mean you've wanted to lose it all for some time now?"

"yeah, I've considered it in the past, but have never gone through with it. So, do your worst." I managed to smile.
he smiled back.

To be honest, as he swept the clippers through my hair, as I felt the tingling of the buzz and the coolness of the metal, as the hair fell down from my head and I felt a draft, I was elated. It felt good. I loved how he was touching my head, even though it was with clippers. I even became slightly aroused. I shouldn't have been so quick to judge him for liking it either.

A couple minutes later, he announced he was finished. I stood up, he proudly handed me the mirror, and the face that looked back at me was different. It seemed more masculine. The lack of hair seemed to look really good. I instinctively reached up and rubbed my head. It felt like a fine sandpaper. It felt fantastic.

"So hot stuff" he teased, "it seems like bald is the look for you." Except this time he was blushing.

"yeah, we look great. We should do this again."
"Sure thing bud, sure thing."

A month later, after having endured the shock and latter compliments from my friends and peers, I was sporting a good fuzz on my head, and so was Robert. Though while the buzzed look also suited me, I couldn't get the image of the bald me, the bald Robert out of my head.

As it turns out, neither could he.

When I returned to the dorm, he was holding the clippers.
"I think we should shave our heads one more time" he said "To see if it's really right for us. Plus, you've grown a mop on your head, and we need to fix that."
I blushed this time.
"But you know what" I said, "We should go all the way, as in bald-bald, shaving cream bald."
He perked up. "you know what man, that might actually be a good idea. I mean I know you look really good without hair, but give it a shine, and you'll be killer!"

We recreated that exciting night again, except this time we had a can of shaving cream.
When it was my turn to go under the razor, my head started to tingle more intensely as he spread the thick lather.
"you enjoying this buddy?" He asked.
"yeah" I replied as he moved the razor in swipes.
When all was through, my plan worked out great. The shine really topped it off.

I'm now in my senior year in college, and we still shave each other's head every two months. Sometimes we do it earlier because Robert gets impatient. I'm actually really glad I made that bet, and I now understand what the people on here talk about when they claim the wonders of being bald.
It just feels great. I'd personally recommend the bald look to anyone who is confident enough to do it.
Now I've got to go, because tonight, ironically, is the night in which we shave each other's heads.







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