Haircut Curriculum Vitae (Part 3) by GermanCut

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Chapter 7: Everything off!

In an ideal universe, my barber would be called Cem or Fred. He would be muscle-bound and would have a perfect bald head or a brutal short haircut. After he had shaved me completely bald, he would whisper to me: "I'll finish work in an hour. Then wait for me outside the door!"

In the real universe, my barber was a vivacious young woman named Betül with long curly hair and red lips. Perhaps Leibnitz was right after all when he spoke of the real universe as "the best of all possible worlds". Because if my barber had been Cem or Fred I might have hyperventilated and get unconscious then. No bald head, no date for me!
Betül took away much tension from the atmosphere.

"How should it be?" she asked after she had put the cloak on me.
"Everything off! Make me bald!" I said. I did it!
"Okay!" she said simply.
No discussions. No questions like: "Are you sure?" I wouldn't have let myself be swayed, but I was glad that it went straight to the point.

She took the clippers and started shaving up the nape of my neck.
"That's the best decision you could take!" she said.
I thought of the bald spot on the back of my head, which has been growing steadily for a few years, and replied: "Does it look so bad yet?"
"No", she appeased. "But children's hair grows better if you shave it off as a baby."
I pointed out to her that my childhood was several decades ago and that I had no intention of getting a full head of hair but wanted to achieve the opposite.
My neck and sides got shaved gone bald during the short conversation. The hair on the top of my head suddenly looked much fuller, but not for long.

"Are you ready?" asked Betül.
"Let’s go on!" I replied.
In the past, I had observed two reactions among men who had their heads shaved: Some men get a broad grin like the previous customer, and the other ones follow their transformation into baldness with a serious face. I belonged to the second group, as I now realized when I felt the cold metal of the hair clipper on the top of my skull for the first time in my life.
But all men have one thing in common: They all sit in the barber's chair with their legs apart while their hair is shaved off. Everyone seems to feel, like me now, the need for more space in the crotch.

I looked at the face in the mirror. Was that my face?
"Short enough?" asked Betül with a grin.
"I think so", I answered.
"The bald head looks really good on you!" she said.
I remembered how the construction worker had thanked the barber after the head shave with the words: "Thank you, mate, for shaving the s**t off!" Towards a young lady, I thought these cool proletarian words were inappropriate and unkind. So, I just said, "Thank you very much! I like it that way!"

With the opening of the door, I stepped out of the safe space into the harsh reality. Of course, a man who steps out of a barbershop and who is completely shaved attracts astonished looks: two teenagers with baseball caps pointed at me; a guy in a singlet and sports pants, with rasp-short hair, nodded appreciatively at me with a slight grin. I smiled back and ran my hand over my head, which felt like sandpaper. I lit a cigarette and walked home through the crowds of people who ended their work and were in the mood for the evening.

In a perfect universe, I would have paid attention if the barber offered wet shaves or not. In The Best of All Possible Worlds, I neglected to ask about it. So, I did the finishing touches myself, which was a special experience.

At home, I stripped down to my boxer shorts and held my bald head under the tap. Then I squeezed shaving soap out of the tube into an old metal cup, lathered it up with the wet shaving brush and lathered my head thoroughly. The warm foam just felt good, and I enjoyed my unusual sight in the bathroom mirror.

I enjoyed running the blade over my head. It was easier than I thought, but I was careful and did it slowly.
The scraping sound of the blade subsided the more often I ran it over my head.

The best thing was when I lathered my head for the second time, and the blade glided over my skull as if by itself.

I held my head under the tap again and looked in the mirror. My bald head was as bright as a cueball.

I don't know how long it took me to shave my head so perfectly smooth that not even the slightest shadow of hair was visible. Not only the urge for perfection tipped the scales, but also the indescribably feeling of running the razor over my neck and top of my head. During all that time, I had a boner like hell. Finally, I ran my hand over my completely smooth skull and grabbed my hard cock with the other hand.

It was good to be in the Best of All Possible Worlds, where I didn’t get a smooth shave at the barbershop but shaved my head at home â€" with all advantages to enjoy the procedure and the result.

Finally, exhausted, I slid onto the cool floor of the bathroom and sat there for a while, my bald head leaning against the wall.

I feeled good.


Epilogue:

I liked my bald head, but how would my family and friends, my colleagues at work, how would the world react?

There was only one single negative comment: ONE!
Yes, some were shocked at first when they saw me with my bald head, for example my mother. But then she burst out laughing like my father. My father showered me with compliments, told me how good I looked now, asked "May I?" and rubbed my head with intense.
"Good decision!" was the most common remark I heard. Never had so many people touched my head; It became almost annoying.

And what did the "highest authority" say? After Mass, the priest smiled at me and said: "I almost didn't recognize you. You have changed, but you have changed in a good way. But I hope you don't become a Buddhist."
I said in a slightly ironic tone: "Don't worry, I'll stay Catholic."

The words of a prayer still rang in my ear: "Oh Lord, lover of my soul! Summon out what I shall be..."

Summon out… The person I wanted to be didn’t hide anymore and had come to light. Something new had begun. My self-esteem had been reawakened by the bald head â€" or was it vice versa? Everything was connected: my coming out, my business start-up, a different behavior that I noticed at me.
Life didn't get any easier in every way, but it felt right.

That all happened many years ago.

Since then, shaving my bald head has become my almost daily routine. I still like to lather my head in the morning and enjoy running the razor over it. I like the feeling of a smooth scalp; I like it when my bald head slowly regains its tanned look after winter.
With the bald head and my short full beard, I'm sometimes the serious businessman and sometimes the cool guy, without having to change or pretend anything.

In a way, the bald head has become normal for me.

Two or three times a year I go to a barbershop and get groomed, including a head shave. Sometimes I’m shaved by a super-hot barber, muscle-bound, bald or with a brutal short haircut.
But I stay cool and don't get unconscious.

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