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A Bond Over Buzz Cuts by BuzzBrandon

I walked home and my dad tells me that he wants me to come run errands with him. We go out and he asks me if I want to get my haircut while he gets his. I’m not a big fan of them, so I say no, but, he says yes. I know not to argue with him, so I agree. We walk in and he gets a normal trim, and I get my normal 2 on the sides and scissor on the top.

I go home with my fresh new cut and show my sister, and she likes it, but doesn’t actually look at it. I go upstairs and do my homework. I go to use the bathroom and notice, my bangs which are usually up in gel, are uneven. So I got annoyed. I hoped in my car and went to get it fixed, but they were closed. So, I just left. I went and worked out and the bangs fell in my face. I was annoyed.

I went out after school to get it fixed, but my barber wasn’t there, so I went over to this Spanish barber, that didn’t speak English. I had explained that I wanted my bangs fixed, but, he didn’t understand. So, I left in frustration.

I had talked to my dad, and he suggested this other barber in the other side of town. I drove there, and it was very ghetto. I walked in and the barbers were smoking. I sat down and I told him I wanted my bangs fixed, but he said "No" and then made a buzz noise. I was like "oh what the heck and said, "Number 6 guard" he goes "No" and grabs the clippers and says #2 I said no this time and he looks me in the eye then starts on the sides. After he is done with the sides, he does my head.

I stopped him about halfway through my head, and said, "Can I get my hair like this?" And I showed him a picture of an undercut where just a little bit is on top, like an offset mohawk. He then keeps going with the buzzer. After he’s done, I say "Can I do a number 1?" He grabs his clippers, and does a number one. I then realized, I just got my head shaved, I didn’t even think when he did it. I payed, then left.

I went home and my dad was confused my I got a buzz cut, and so was I. I went to my workout, and my instructor made me take off my hat. Everyone gasped, and I turned bright red. Everyone felt my head, and I felt uncomfortable. Then, Bryson, one of my fellow soccer players, comes over and tells me how much balls I had for doing it. And then he told me that he wanted to shave his head, but was to scared.

The next day, Bryson came over and we drove to the ghetto barbershop on the other side of town. They were all smoking, and gave Bryson a number 2 buzz cut, then a number 1. We had barely ever talked before this, and now we were bald-buddies.

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