A chance taken by noguard

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As soon as my alarm woke me up I noticed the garish light from the sun coming out of my window and shining on my face; it was summer, and the sun always shined bright in the morning.

I quickly hopped out of bed, quickly getting ready for my appointment at the local barbershop; nothing special, just a trim. It was about time, anyways. The blazing heat of July made my straight, dark brown hair become unusually warm and made me more uncomfortable than anything. I had never done anything different with it, the sides and back were scissor cut and so was the top. When I got a trim, my bangs would be slightly above my eyebrows, and the sides and back were cut to about 2 inches. Until the next, it would grow from there.

I’d waited for my train to drop me off at the right address and hopped off. It was about 2 blocks away from the shop I’d went to since I was about 7; and I was 16 now, so that’d be about 9 years. Within those nine years the same guy, George, had cut my hair. He was about 30 years old when I first started going and now he was 38 approaching 39. We’d usually talk during the trims and we’ve learned a lot about eachother. I have seen him at other places where I’d usually talk to him for a minute such as rallies or certain events.

I arrived about 3 minutes later as I had stopped to text my mom for a minute, who was about to come home from a trip with a few friends; I told her I’d be home in at the most 15 minutes.

I opened the doer which let in sunlight which lit up the small building where George was waiting for me. The shop wasn’t exactly modern, or vintage. George was open to anything that his customers wanted to do with their hair. Their were only about 4 chairs in the small shop.

"Hey, Max. I need to go to the bathroom, I’ll cape you up in a minute."

The man didn’t look quite his age, honestly. He looked about 5 years younger. His eyes were a dark brown like mine and his lighter brown hair was usually combed all the way back and sometimes he’d touch it up. When I walked in it looked quite disheveled, so I guessed that’s what he was doing in the bathroom.

I was already sat down when he came back, with his hair perfectly organized again. He walked over to the chair I was sat at.

"Alright, you’ll be out of here in just a second. The usual?"

He quickly draped it over me.

I responded. "The usual".

A little bit into the haircut when he was working on one side, he became a lot more focused; he was feeling around my head and lifted my bangs up for a second.

He spoke up. "…could I suggest something?"

I responded, a little confused. He’d never really requested something. "That’d be fine. What is it?"

He looked a bit nervous for a minute. "… I think you’d look great with a #0 shaved head. Your head shape and hairline are about perfect for it." He said it so sure it was almost like he’d been holding it in for a while.

I froze up a bit. "It’s totally fine if you don’t want to!" He responded to his own statement.

It took me a minute to say anything, I had to think. It was weird because I thought I’d just refuse. I lifted my hand out of the cape. When I really thought about it, I’d never done and wasn’t doing anything with my hair. I had gotten the same length and style every time, wasn’t that a bit boring? I lifted my hand to my scalp and felt around for a bit; and honestly, he was right. My head was pretty well sculpted, and my hairline was about perfect. I remembered once he had said, "don’t let a good head shape go to waste." I thought a bit more

"Well?" He said.

I stuttered a bit. "Y’know what? Go for it."

He looked a little startled at my response. "…You sure?"

"Yep. I’m not exactly doing anything with it.

There’s no going back now, it’d be too awkward.

He pulled out the clippers and removed the guard. "When I’m done, your hair will be about 1/16 of an inch. It’ll still be there, but not much."

I’ll say, my heart started racing a bit.

Without saying anything, he took the naked clippers and started to trace a path up the back of my neck. I jumped a bit.

He laughed a bit. "You’ve never had it this short, have you?"

"Nope. Always had it scissor cut."

As he continued up & down the back, the cold metal made me freeze up each time. It was such a new feeling.

I spoke up. "I can’t believe I’m doing this right now."

He responded quite quickly. "I couldn’t believe it either. But trust me, you’ll look great!" He said a little enthusiastically.

"I hope so." I said jokingly

He finishes up the sides and relocates to the head right after. He revealed paths of stubble each swipe and went over it again just to make sure it’s all gone. And with a few more swipes, he’d touched every inch of my head.

"Just going over the entire head, almost done." He quickly went over all of it, the metal was now warm from the use. He used a blow dryer to blow the hair off my neck and head.

He took off my cape and napkin and turned my chair around to face the mirror. "What do you think?"

I picked my hands up and started to feel around my head. It was strange; almost like sandpaper but a little more soft like a peach. I’d never had it this short in my life. There was no visible brown color and now it resembled a paler tone of my skin. The more I looked and felt, the more I started to like it.

"I wasn’t so sure, but honestly, I like it a lot!" I said with slight enthusiasm.

He put his hands on his hips. "Im glad you do. It’s on the house, today. I’ll see you soon!" And that’s when I said bye and left.

When I got home, my mom had texted me that she was just 50 minutes away. I chose some clean clothes and got ready to take a shower. When I got in, I shampoo’d my almost naked scalp and made sure to clean off any hairs. When I got out, it dried incredibly fast. I couldn’t stop touching it, it felt so nice.

I sat in my room for about 20 minutes, telling my friends what I’d just done. I wonder what my parents will think?

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