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Get that sh*t shaved – Benjamin by Benjamin Zaltano
As I scrolled through my phone, I saw that video.
"If you’re a young man, teenager or whatever, you should shave your head" said a man with sun-kissed skin, blue-green eyes, in a nice costume, with a beautiful shaved head.
"You’re probably hiding behind those long luscious locks, like I was, getting all the girls, with my curly f*cking hair" he continued in his imperative tone.
"You got to shave that sh*t off." He ordered, while raising his hand and doing a shaving from front to back gesture. "Then true confidence comes in, you’ll see who’s real."
I had never even considered shaving my head. But this guy managed to see through me. Here I was, 18 years old, with my brown-chestnut luscious hair, parted in the middle in the usual curtains. I was getting all the girls, but I didn’t like myself or my life. It was true, I was hiding behind my hair, without any confidence.
And here he was, in a suit, on my phone, with a shaved head. He looked like someone that works hard, and that everybody looks up to. Everything that I wanted to be.
This short video, I can’t really describe but it convinced me. I had to shave it all off. It was for the better.
It was late at night, so I waited until tomorrow to actually do it. In the morning, I woke up, brushed my hair, telling myself it was the last time. Anytime I felt less confident, I watched the video. "You got to shave that sh*t off."
I dressed myself in the only suit I had, which was black with a white shirt, quite traditional if you ask me. I never wore suits, they were out of my confidence league, but this time I decided to actually wear one, just like I wanted to.
Before leaving my house, I looked at myself in the mirror. It was definitely the hair that needed a change. And a big change.
I left my house and went onto the streets. As I said, I had brown curtains that fell just at eye-length. Usually I went to a salon to cut it, but I couldn’t this time: they don’t even have clippers. So I went to a barbershop near the city center, knowing they would do what I need.
The first barber I saw clearly had a long queue, and I didn’t feel like waiting. It would demoralize me and I needed this haircut.
The second barbershop was much smaller, in a unknown street. It was more on the modern side, although it still had the ancient barbershop details. I went in.
There was only one person in there, and it was the barber. He also had a shaved head, with lots of muscles under a tank top.
"Nice suit" he said. "Just go and sit in the chair, if you please"
I followed his instructions. He didn’t ask any questions, I felt like they wasn’t much to discuss right now. As I sat in the chair, my will to shave my head started to leave me. The barber left the room for a moment to search for a cape.
In that period of time, I whipped out my phone and watched the video, one last time, to give me enough courage to do it. "You’ve got to shave that sh*t off" really gave me all I needed.
The barber came back and tied the cape around my neck. "What do you want today?" he asked with his coarse voice.
"I’d like to get it all off. Shaved, completely. Like a true man, not one that hides from himself." I answered, ready to do it.
"I think that will suit you nicely" he responded.
He grabbed the clippers. "Bye bye brown curtains. I’m ready for something new, that will last" said I.
He put the clippers on. I confirmed that I would like my skin bare, the clippers didn’t need any guard. He put the clipper on my nape.
"Would you mind starting in the front? I don’t want to chicken out of this." I demanded. One part was true, I didn’t want to chicken out, but the other part was that I wanted to see my hair gone in the most beautiful way. "Sure" he answered.
He then put the clippers on my forehead. The mechanical sound, the vibration I felt on my skin.
"Get that sh*t off" I asserted one last time.
I looked at myself in the mirror. The clippers started going up. The middle part was coming all off. I saw my skin as it was unraveled from all that brown hair. It felt so good, feeling the hair being shaved to zero. I understood how a shaved head gave confidence.
He finished the first streak. My middle part was gone, all was left was an inch thick stripe of white skin. I couldn’t chicken out, I wouldn’t chicken out. He then continued, placing the clippers on the right side of the strip and shaving with the sweet sound I know all of long hair. Then the left. Then he just had to deal with the sides, which were quick to finish.
I saw myself in the mirror. A real man. With confidence. He removed the cape, leaving all that long hair on the floor, where it needed to be. I was in a suit, with a shaved head. Like the guy in the video. And I adored it.
I complimented the haircut, and then left. Yes, it was just a clipper shave, but it was already enough. I wouldn’t chicken out of a razor shave, but I didn’t want to go too fast and not get the feeling of the first experience.
I went home and looked at myself in the mirror. I saw the person I wanted to be, the person I was supposed to be. A man, not a whinny teenager.
And I would not let my hair grow anymore. I wanted it shaved. If anything, I would preach what the guy in the video said. "Get that sh*t off." I could even help young mans and teenagers shave their f*cking hair off, if that’s what they needed to change.