Finally Did it by Ken

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When I was fifteen, I started to become obsessed about getting my head shaved. I can't explain it, but I saw a picture of some young guy with a bald head and thought that's what I wanted. I never did get it shaved. I had hair that touched my shoulders and it was just too drastic a change. But I kept thinking about it and at times, I would be distracted for hours thinking about it, or watching videos on YouTube.

When I was 23, I walked past a SuperCuts, and inside was a woman cutting hair. She was bald. Shaved, I could tell as there was a shadow. She looked great with it so short. I found this wasn't exactly rare, as some women did get their hair cut short or shaved...especially in the black community. I'd walk by that SuperCuts time and again over the next month, looking to see if the woman there had kept her head shaved. She did. Sometimes it would be smooth, other times, just a shadow.

Then one day, she was the only person there and there wasn't anyone else around. I went in.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"Yes, I can't get it done now...I have to get to work, but I'd like to see about getting my head shaved. Can you do that?"

"Sure, it's gotten quite common now. You can't get it done now?"

"No, just walking by. I've got to get to work, but can I make an appointment?"

"Sure."

I was shaking as I talked to her. "But I want it shaved, you know smooth bald? Can you go that short?"

"Like mine?" She smiled.

"Well, yeah, just like yours."

She smiled again. "We can get it smooth as the back of your hand. When can you come in?"

"Tomorrow after work. Are you available?"

"Sure am. What time?"

"Five." The appointment was made.

I work for a bank in the mortgage service division. Everyone was talking about the heat wave and how hot it was. I said I was going to get a short hair cut, maybe it would be better with the heat. Everyone agreed it was time for a change.

The next day, I got home and it was only a mile or so walk to SuperCuts. I changed into a pair of shorts and a green polo. I got there a few minutes early and the woman I had an appointment with was just finishing up a crew cut on some guy. She looked over and said she'd be ready in just a few minutes. I took a seat and waited. I could hardly focus on work knowing what was going to happen after. I took a seat and felt my hair. There was a mirror behind the shelf of shampoos and conditioners they sold and I looked at my hair. It was kind of long, touching my shoulders. I felt it, knowing it wouldn't be there in about a half hour. I tried to picture myself bald. But couldn't. Finally it was my turn.

I got up and followed her back to a sink, where she washed my hair. "Won't have to do this any more," she said, "at least not for a while."

"I guess so." She toweled my hair off and followed her to her chair. The waiting area had begun to fill up and by the time I sat down, there were 5 other people waiting.

"Ready?" she asked. "Last chance to change your mind?" She looked at me and smiled, but her bald head was the motivation I needed. If a woman shaved her head, then why shouldn't I?

"I'm ready."

"All the way? Bald?"

My mouth was so dry I could only nod.

She turned me so I could see myself in the mirror. She picked up a pair of clipper and started at my right temple. "I'll cut it short with the clippers, then use the electric razor to finish the job. Okay?"

Again, all I could do was nod.

The clippers went back, pealing away my hair and leaving just white skin. Another pass and another pass, and the top of my head was bald. She worked on the sides, left first, and very quickly the side matched the top. She did the back, but I couldn't see that, then she did the other side. She finished up the side and all I had left was stubble. She held up a mirror and I could see the back, it as just stubble, like everywhere else.

"Okay, now all the rest," she said. I asked her why she shaved her head and she said she'd gotten it shaved at first for a locks of love campaign of a friend, got it shaved, and really liked it. Got a lot of complements on it and had been shaving it for almost two years. She took the electric razor and began running it over and over my head and the stubble was being replaced by white smooth skin. She did it over and over until she seemed done. "Okay, let's rinse it off."

She took me to the sink and rinsed it off. Then back at her chair, she ran the razor over my head again and again. "This will get anything I missed," she said. My knees were shaking as I looked at my bald reflection in the mirror. She rubbed my head down with a towel, took the cape off and showed me my entire bald head in the mirror.

"I think it looks great, what do you think?" she said.

"Love it. I can't believe I waited so long to get this done." I felt my head and felt only skin. Smooth white skin.

"You going to keep it?" she asked.

I nodded again. "Yeah, I can't image growing it back."

She rubbed some cream over it and it took on a bit of a shine. "Use some sunblock if you're going out in the sun."

I paid her and left. It was all I could do not to rub my bald head as I walked home. I passed a Walgreens, stopped in, bought some shaving cream, new razors and some 45 spf sunblock.

At home, I ran into my neighbor. She was surprised. She didn't recognize me, but I told her to get used to it, I'd be keeping it bald. Inside, I rubbed some sunblock on my scalp, but my shaving stuff away and went out. Get some sun, get used to being seen with my bald head.

More to come, in Part 2

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