Down to the wood by dale watts

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It was March, still bitterly cold but dry. The air had that crisp edge to it, with a sharp, nippy wind that cut right through you. It was my day off, and I decided it was time for a proper haircut. I headed down to Bens Barbers. Ben is about 50, completely bald, spent most of his life in the navy before opening his own place. I always liked going to him, there was something about the no nonsense chat and the quiet, masculine feel of the shop, especially on a Wednesday when it was empty.

He sat me in the chair and looked at me in the mirror. Christ, not been in here for a while, not since November, I said. You have a thick mop, I will get it sorted. What are we doing. Very high and right down to the skin, as high as possible please. And the top, he asked. Can you do a scissor cut and thin it out. Of course lad.

He placed the clippers at the side of my head and switched them on. My hair is very thick, but it did not look that long, so when he started buzzing up the sides I was genuinely surprised by how much hair fell away. It dropped heavily onto the cape, more than I expected. It felt incredible. The cold air hit the freshly shaved sides and back straight away, and I loved it. Do you want me to take it higher, he asked. I did not even look. I already knew. As high as he can go, the better. The clippers felt too good on my scalp to stop.

He moved to the top, thinning it out first to take the weight away, then carefully trimming and blending it into what was left. When I looked up, I barely recognised it. Brutally shorn to the skin all around, with just a rough, tufty patch left on top.
Do you think it is too much hair on top, I asked. He did not really answer, just kept trimming, taking more and more away. Is that ok lad, or do you want it buzzed on top, number 2 or 3. Yeah, let’s do a buzz, I said, already missing the feel of the clippers. He ran them straight over the top, and just like that it was gone. I looked at myself again. It looked sharp, clean, but I could not stop staring at how bare the sides were.

Ben, being bald, I said, would it look stupid going ultra short on top, like a 1. He laughed. Not at all, could do a 1 blend easy, or something like mine, take it all off. There was a pause, just a second, then I said it. Ok, do it, before I regret it.
He did not hesitate. The clippers went straight down the middle of my head in one long, deliberate pass. You could feel it more than see it, that sudden strip of bare scalp, the weight gone instantly. There was no turning back after that. He worked methodically, clearing the rest until there was nothing left, just smooth, even stubble all over.

When he finished, I just stared at myself. It was brutal, no hiding behind anything, completely stripped back. Holy hell, that is brutal, but it feels good. Ben nodded, looking at me in the mirror. It really suits you, you should go full time head shaver. I laughed and said I will be back in a week to get it reshaved. He grinned and said next time, if you bring a razor, I will take it smooth, no sandpaper.

You look sexy lad, with the trackie bottoms and t shirt, you look like trouble and you fit in to that council estate. I paid, tipped, and stepped back out into the cold. The wind hit my bare head straight away, sharper than before, but it just made me grin. I walked home like that, still running my hand over it, probably scaring a few old folk on the way. Walking up my stairs to my flat i saw Barry . nice cut mate he said. I was happy i had it all shaved off

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