Philipp and Cem: Thermal Haircut by GermanCut

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When I stormed into a barbershop a few months ago to seek shelter from a heavy rain shower, I haven't guessed that my life would be turned completely upside down. Because a young man at my age worked there with the most beautiful bald head I had ever seen.

It sounds exaggerated when I say that our love began with the first haircut. But it is the full truth. I myself was too timid to admit this love to myself, but a few weeks later, after a drastic haircut in which I got rid of most of my hair, we became a couple. Me, Philipp, and my friend Cem, the barber.

Here is the story of a much more drastic haircut

I study chemistry and was in the process of developing a new biodegradable, waterproof plastic. Not an easy task! My professor had been asking me for a few days how far I had come with my experiments and whether I could already present results. I couldn't. All experiments had failed. But instead of giving up, or at least taking a break, I worked like a madman and spent even more time in the lab.

It was the same that evening. All my colleagues had already gone home. Only I was still in the laboratory and continued my series of experiments without any break in the clinically cold light.

It was already 7 o'clock. I had successfully suppressed the feeling of hunger until now, but in the meantime my stomach announced itself with a loud growl. Sighing, I admitted to myself that this day was also an unsuccessful day. So I took off the gown, the protective hood and goggles and tidied up my workplace.

Suddenly, a thought crossed my mind I had been experimenting with the mixing ratio all the time, but maybe the mixing ratio had been right, only the temperature at which the reaction was supposed to occur was the wrong one.
It may have been due to my empty stomach that this idea seemed ingenious to me.
I quickly reassembled the equipment for the series of experiments, which I had already put away, filled the ingredients in the recently tested ratio into the Erlenmeyer flask and set the Bunsen burner to the highest setting.

The chemical reaction was unexpectedly violent.
There was a loud bang, as if a strong wind had slammed a door. Something flared up briefly I felt a strong heat in my face. Something crackled it smelled of burnt plastic and, strangely enough, of burnt feathers.

Stunned, I watched the chaos at my workplace. The Erlenmeyer flask had not survived the explosion, and a few other devices had also broken.

I sat down at my computer. I had to write a damage report. But to whom? To my professor, to the head of the institute or to the janitor? I was still shocked and couldn't think clearly, so I sent the damage report to all three of them and ran my hand over my face from exhaustion.

It felt strange.
Something was wrong.
Where normally my eyebrows would have been, I felt nothing.

I ran to the toilet and stood in front of the mirror.
It was even worse than I had feared not only had my eyebrows disappeared, but the explosion had also burned my hair above my forehead. Ever since Cem had cut my hair short for the summer, I had been wearing a High and Tight with sides to zero. There was hardly more than half of it left.
I didn't recognize myself in the mirror. This guy with no eyebrows and a high forehead couldn't possibly be me!
I was angry with myself. How could I be so careless? At the same time, I was glad that nothing worse had happened. My face was slightly reddened, but my skin had not been damaged.

I sighed, grabbed my mobile phone and wrote to Cem, "Urgent! In an hour with you in the barbershop?"
Then I began to clean up the mess.

A little more than an hour later, I knocked on the back door of the barbershop. I heard Cem's footsteps and pulled my baseball cap a little lower over my face.
Cem opened.
"Well, my dear, what's so urgent?" he asked, as soon as I entered.
Without a word, I took off my cap.
Cem stared at me with his mouth open.
"An unexpected chemical reaction," I commented laconically.
Cem still didn't say anything. But then his lips began to twitch and he burst out laughing.
"Bro..." he said while tears welling up in his eyes. "That's... You have... That was a thermal haircut."
"You can call it that," I replied, while Cem's laughter made me smile. "But I definitely prefer your haircuts!"
"Come with me, we'll get that right," Cem said, although I wondered how that was supposed to work.

"Sit down, my cutie, and have a glass of tea first," Cem said, putting the cloak around me and kissing me on the cheek.
He rummaged around in a drawer and then said, "First of all, we should take care of your eyebrows. I promise you a true work of art!"
He turned me away from the mirror and ordered, "Hold still!"
With a concentrated expression, while his lips twitched slightly again, Cem approached my face. First to the left, then to the right, I felt the eyebrow pencil draw a sweeping line above my eyes.
"Voil!" Cem shouted and turned me to the mirror.
I let out a sharp scream.
My new eyebrows looked completely different from my natural ones. Two steep brows which arched far into my forehead.
"I look like a drag queen who lost her wig!" I exclaimed.
"Yes, that's right," Cem affirmed, "But I was thinking more of Marlene Dietrich. Brilliant, isn't it?"
In the meantime, Cem's laughter had become the cackling of a hen.
"Bonsoir Cem! C'est Marlene!" I said in the best Marlene Dietrich bass and joined in the cackling.

It felt so good to laugh from the bottom of my heart after this disastrous day, even if the laughter was at my expense.
"So, that's it now!" said Cem resolutely, grabbed a cosmetic tissue and wiped Marlene Dietrich from my face.
Then he looked at me through the mirror for a long time.

"I know a solution to your hair problem," Cem began calmly. "I know that this solution is radical, but I also know that it is something you have wanted for a long time."

He placed his hands on the parts of my head that still had hair growing on them.
"It doesn't make much difference, does it?" said Cem. "Imagine if there were no hair under my hands, only naked scalp! Would you be shocked?"
I swallowed. "Cem," I said, "When we met first, I still had a real full head of hair. The High and Tight you gave me later was already extreme. But a bald head is even much more extreme. I have to get used to the idea first."
Cem raised his existed! eyebrows and said, "I don't believe you that the thought of a bald head is totally new to you. I know someone who likes to stroke my bald head very, very much and can't get enough of it. This person also runs his hand over the shaved nape of his neck very often and seems to love the feeling very much. And the same person was very impressed when I once drew him without hair. I hardly knew him then, but I knew that he would look great with a bald head and that he would like it."

I blushed. That person was me. Cem had told the truth. To be bald was my secret wish. I had never dared to say it, not even to Cem.

"So, dear Philipp, are you ready for the ultimate hairstyle?" asked Cem and added, "The alternative would be to walk around in a baseball cap for the next few weeks, namely all the time!"
I was frozen. It was clear to me that after the mishap in the lab, the only good option was to have the rest of my hair shaved off. Why was I actually hesitating?
Cem leaned forward, I had his bald head right in front of my eyes, and he spoke in a seductive tone, "Philipp, you like this sight and the feeling too! Come on, stroke my head! You like it! And I promise you that you will like to touch your own bald head, too!"
I stroked Cem's bald head, long and in thought.
Cem lifted his head slightly and looked me straight in the face, "So? Are you ready?"
I nodded.

Cem picked up the clippers, a warm buzz filled the air, and in less than a minute he shaved off all the rest of my hair. I had no time to regret it.

If someone were to claim that the difference between a High and Tight, which is moreover half burned, and a bald head is not that big, they don't know what they are saying. For the second time in one day, I didn't recognize my reflection in the mirror.
"Cem, I'm bald," I stated the obvious.
Cem replied, "Oh, my dear sweet Philipp! The best will come soon after I have washed your head!"

After he washed my head, I sat with a towel wrapped around my head while Cem mixed the shaving cream and prepared the blades. I watched every move of him, anxious like a patient at the dentist.
Cem kissed me on the cheek again and took the towel off me.
"You're going to enjoy it," he promised.
"From your lips to God's ears!" I replied, although I was sure that he was right.

I felt the warm shaving cream being applied to my head. Ever since I grew a beard, I preferred a wet shave. But the circular movements of the shaving brush on my head were something completely new to me. It was so pleasant! I relaxed and closed my eyes during the procedure.
"I like you better that way," Cem said. Did he mean my relaxed behaviour or the sight of my lathered head? I liked the sight very much. But the shaving cream was only the dramatic prelude to shaving my head. Cem was already holding the razor knife in his hand. My irreversible transformation was about to begin! I felt warm, even hot, and I felt something stirring in my crotch.

I closed my eyes again as Cem put the razor knife to my temple. I heard the scraping sound, felt the sharp blade and Cem's thumb on my scalp.
Cem pushed my head slightly forward and shaved the nape of my neck. My lips formed a smile. My whole body was relaxed by now, only one part of my body was standing at full attention.

Cem's hand with the razor wandered higher and higher. Finally, the sides and neck were free of the shaving cream, only a white layer on top of the head was left. While Cem put the knife to my forehead, I felt his breath on my freshly shaved scalp. I felt that he took care so as not to gasp. It was clear that Cem didn't want to disturb the almost celebratory mood that had spread over us. Neither of us spoke a word.

Finally, Cem led my head to the sink and thoroughly washed the remaining foam from my skull.
He dried my head with a soft white towel, then squirted some aftershave into his hand and spread it on my freshly shaved skin without warning. I grimaced slightly, because it burned a bit.
Then he rubbed my face and head with a pleasantly cooling lotion. This feeling was incredible. I felt Cem's hands glide over my skin without resistance. Cem took his time and massaged the lotion thoroughly.

"Done?" I finally asked. It was the first word in a long time.
"Please wait a moment!" Cem answered, took a dark brown eyebrow pencil and drew two thin, only slightly curved lines over my eyes with a practiced hand. Then he took off my cloak.

I saw my new self in the mirror and looked at it with my mouth open.
I let my hand glide over my own completely smooth scalp for the first time.
I shuddered with relish.

Cem put his hands on my shoulders and gave me a kiss on my bald head. Then he rubbed his cheek against my temple.
"You look so good," he whispered, "Better than in the picture I drew back then."
Cem was right. I still had to get used to my new look and the feeling of the naked scalp, but I had never looked as good as I did now.
"Cem, thank you so very much!" I said and meant it honestly.
"You should be especially thankful to the thermal barber!" replied Cem, "If he wouldn't have begun the work, you might have thought for years about whether you should have shaved your head or not! By the way, how did it all actually happen?"
"I don't know exactly," I answered. "It could have been the temperature that triggered the violent chemical reaction. Or maybe I took the wrong mixing ratio in my haste. And sometimes a single hair that falls into the Erlenmeyer flask can trigger such a reaction, too."
Cem grinned, "I don't think your hair will trigger this reaction again in the near future. Please keep the bald head for a while! Experience its benefits and get used to the sight of it! Maybe you'll never want a different hairstyle again!"
"Like you, Cem?" I said, "I can well imagine keeping my head shaved in the future. But I don't want to promise you anything! Maybe the care is too exhausting for me in the long run."
"I will definitely support you with the care!" said Cem emphatically, "It will be a special pleasure for me. Tomorrow, I'll show you what to consider when you shave your bald head yourself, but at least once a week I want to see you in my chair! Okay?"
Instead of giving an answer, I pulled Cem to me. Both of us looked into the mirror with the golden frame two baldies touching their heads tenderly.

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