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Yearly Shearing by noguard
Traditions; we all have them. Whether they be important, mandatory, or just for fun.
Me personally (besides holidays and events), I have one that sticks out the most. Every year, during the first week of June, I shave my head to a #0 to combat the expected heat and keep it up for the whole summer. Today, I’ll be keeping up with this tradition.
As I walk slowly to my usual barbershop, the sun glares on my head; oddly intense for the 3rd day of June. My hair is straight, thick, and has a dark brown hue to it. Throughout Fall-Spring, I get it trimmed once and a while, but the length and style stays the same. Usually the sides & back stay about 1 1/2-3 inches long while my bangs will go down to my eyes will "swoop" to the side in a way where my eyes are still visible; the top being the same length as the bangs with tufts of hair sometimes popping out.
As I approached the shop, the sun reflected against the windows and blinded me for a second, though I got in with no problem.
"Colton! I’ll be with you in a second"; Mr. Thompson, or just Will, as he let me call him, exclaimed. He’d been my barber for almost 10 years.
As he scurried to his supplies, I sat in the chair. Silently, he pumped the chair up several times until I could see myself fully.
"Shave, #0 guard, correct?" He flapped the cape of me. "It’s getting longer than usual." He chuckled.
"Correct." I slightly smiled back.
"Want me to do it faster or slower this time. I’ve got all time right now."
"Alright, just put your head down and relax."
I calmly closed my eyes as I heard the vibrations of the bare clippers approaching my neck. He slowly tracked the machine up my nape; which I loved the feeling of. It was like new every time. I could feel the hair on the back of my head piling up on the cape; which I saw after I took a peek at my lap. I closed my eyes again and felt a relaxed grin form on my face as he went over the sides and felt more & more chunks of hair fall into my lap.
When he was done with the sides, he lifted my head up slightly, my eyes still closed after I took a quick peek at my lap where the pile of hair had grown; he was good at catching all the hair into the cape. He plowed the clippers into my scalp once again up to the forelock. Each time, the clump of hair tumbled into my lap, the relaxed grin still on my face. Finally, he went over the forelock which fell right into my lap once again. I looked at my lap and there it was; my whole head of hair, in a large pile after being sheared off of my scalp.
"You in there?" Will said jokingly. I slightly laughed & opened my eyes; and the "new" me was staring back at me through the mirror. It was good to see my forehead again. After the hair had been chopped from my head, you could see my scalp. I went over it with my hands and it was the unmistakable feeling of a freshly shaved head (obviously). Every time I got one I would touch it all day if not all week!
"It looks great, Will." I said as he took my cape off and dumped the hair into a can.
"My pleasure. Next week?"
"Next week." I said, leaving the building, stroking my tanned scalp.