Philipp and Cem: Club "Cueball No. 0" by GermanCut

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Sometimes a few things that happen completely change your lives.

A dream had come true. Cem's application to the art academy had been successful. He was able to start studying the next semester. You can imagine that his parents were happy for their son, and we were all happy for Cem. His uncle, with whom he could continue to work in the barbershop while studying, increased generously Cem's salary. So, we both could afford our small apartment in the future.

But it was a much bigger surprise that we recently called Sebastian "Basti" and no longer "Sebastian, that asshole".
No one would have found it possible that we would become great friends, especially not after I had played a bad trick on Sebastian. To punish him for his nasty behavior towards Cem, I had arranged for Sebastian that he got a bald head. If he had hated me forever because of that, I would have understood him, because I had gone much too far. But just as I felt guilty for what I had done to him, he felt guilty about how he had treated Cem. He had understood the power of friendship.

Sebastian didn't become bald voluntarily for the first time, but since then he shaved his head like a cueball every day, just like Cem and I. Baldness has become our "trademark". Wherever we three bald guys appeared, we stood out of the crowd.
"Here are the three bald heads" or "Welcome to our three cueballs!" we often heard as a greeting.

One evening the three of us were sitting together in the shisha bar. Cem and I were excited, because Sebastian had written to us that he had something important to tell us.
"Well, what's up?" Cem asked impatiently, while Sebastian took a puff from the shisha and wrapped himself in smoke and silence.
Sebastian took another puff, cleared his throat and began
"Cem, I admire you for having the courage to make your dream come true. I also have a dream that might always have remained a dream if I hadn't met you and Philipp."
Cem and I looked at each other. Sebastian had a certain penchant for dramatic speech, but this preface could only announce a great thing.

"I've always dreamed of owning my own club," Sebastian revealed to us, "A club where you meet during the week to drink beer and play billiards, and where people let it rip on weekends. Of course, you can't just open a club without two important things. You need capital and good friends, otherwise it won't work. I have good friends," Sebastian said and looked at us, "And the start-up capital fell into my lap a few days ago. I have a great-aunt. She may not live much longer. She doesn't have children. A few days ago, she transferred a lot of money to my sister and me."

Sebastian was silent again. We wanted to scream "Don't put us on the rack! How much money is it? Tell us!" But out of decency and piety towards Sebastian's great-aunt, we kept our mouths shut.
"It's really a lot of money," Sebastian said after a long pause and told us the sum. We whistled through our teeth with surprise.

"I know you're both studying, so you wouldn't be able to work in the club every night. That's why I'd need a few other employees," Sebastian continued,
"But I'd like to have you, Cem, for the design of our outdoor advertising and for the design of the walls. We can take a look at the location tomorrow. It's an old building at the train station, very close to your uncle's barbershop. A cooperative has its offices on the upper floors. No one is there in the evenings and on weekends. So, our club wouldn't disturb anyone. Until recently, there was a caf on the ground floor. We'll move in there."
I was perplexed by how much Sebastian had already reflected about all and how naturally he used the word "we" as if it were the most normal thing of the world that the three of us were the operators of the club.

"Well," said Sebastian, "now please say something! Not that I talk all the time!"
I tried to speak, "Basti, that's... you're... I can't believe it. It just sounds good!"
Cem agreed with me "It's brilliant! And of course you get the most beautiful frescoes in Pompeian style! Okay, maybe in a different design And I'll design the lettering for the club for you anyway. You've probably already thought about a name for the club, haven't you?"
Sebastian grinned. "Of course, I have. The club will be called "Cueball No. 0"
"Sure," I said, grinning as I stroked my bald head.

Then Cem took his mobile phone out of his pocket, we laughed into the camera. "To remember this wonderful day!" I shouted. "With my best friends!" shouted Sebastian. Cem pressed the shutter release. The flash-light illuminated us and the perfect moment.

We felt light like never before. It seemed to us that everything could succeed.

In the next few weeks, we had a lot of work to turn the former caf into a club. Cem beautified the walls with paint and brush, while I took care of the furniture with Basti. We also spent many hours calculating the costs, drawing up plans and negotiate with beverage suppliers.

Finally, most was done. Because Sebastian could not only keep the club running with Cem and me, each of us had asked a few buddies if they could imagine working in a club.

It was at a September evening. It had become cool, and it smelled of wet leaves and a little of decay.
Sebastian, Cem and I were standing in front of the entrance to our club, directly under the sign "Cueball No. 0", for which Cem had chosen a font that was both cursive and angular. We waited for our future employees. Three guys had announced that they would join us.
They arrived almost at the same time.
Ahmed, a regular customer of Sebastian from the hairdressing salon, was the oldest of them all, in his mid-30s, tall and slim, in black clothes, with a precisely trimmed beard and short hair.
Alexander, a fellow student of mine, was about the same age as me, also tall, but beefier than Ahmed and a little nerdy, with a denim jacket and band T-shirt, glasses and longer thick dark hair.
Marten, Cem's gym buddy, was the youngest of us, small and wiry, a sporty guy with a crewcut and, despite the low temperatures, in shorts and a track jacket.

After we shook hands and introduced ourselves, Sebastian unlocked the door.
We led the three of them through the rooms, proudly showing them the two new pool tables, the newly designed counter, as well as Cem's mural, in which the color green prevailed and in which cues and cueballs combined to form a discreet abstract pattern. "Very tasteful!" said Ahmet appreciatively, and we all nodded in agreement.

Finally, we all took a seat at the counter while I got drinks for all of us from our new, shimmering refrigerator.
"Well," Sebastian began, "It's nice to see you all! When we work together, the most important thing is that we get along well. How much experience we have is not unimportant, but I think it's secondary. Still... What experience do you have in terms of your future job?"
It turned out that Ahmed had the most experience, as he had worked in a hotel bar for a long time. Alexander and Marten, who had no significant experience, instead talked about why they would like to do this job. Especially Marten's flow of speech was unstoppable.

Over time, we all became more relaxed, and we talked about other topics. When we talked about music, I asked if any of the others had ever worked as a DJ somewhere. Everyone said no, only Alexander said a bit shamefully "Yes, once. At my little brother's bar mitzvah." We laughed, and Cem said "If you got the guests in the mood with the music and everyone danced, you' did a good job." Alexander grinned and made a vague gesture with his hand. To distract from this topic, he said "By the way, you all have really cool hairstyles!"
Sebastian, Cem and I unintentionally drove with our hands over our bald heads.
"Thank you," said Sebastian. "That's my cue, by the way. Let's talk about our corporate identity! If you work at 'Cueball No. 0', you can wear whatever you want. You could wear the same clothes to work as you do today. But somehow we should give a uniform image, or rather, a picture that fits our club."
The three stared at us with an inquiring look.
Cem explained, "Philipp and I had been already shaved bald for a long time, but when Sebastian finally had a shaved head, I thought we could start a club and call it 'The Three Cueballs'."
Cem had avoided telling the circumstances that had led to Sebastian's baldness, for which Sebastian was grateful, who now explained, "Our club is not called 'Cueball No.0' by chance. It's just a variation of Cem's idea."
"The idea came to me just for fun," Cem added.
"But it was nevertheless a good idea," Sebastian continued, "At 'Cueball No. 0' you can not only play billiards, but the name also stands for us. For our style. For all of us."

Marten understood first "Bro, are you telling us that we should all get our heads shaved to work here?"
"That's what we wanted to say," I answered. "Could you imagine to do it for the job?"

Ahmed, Alex and Marten became very quiet and thoughtful. Unconsciously, all three ran their fingers through their hair.

Ahmed was the first to find his voice again, "My hair is already short anyway. If the rest is also shaved off, it won't make much difference. So, I'll do it!"
General silence again.
"Oh, f*** it! I'll do it too!" cried Marten, "I've always wanted to try the shaved look. Could there be a better opportunity?"
Finally, Alex spoke up, "I never thought about shaving my hair off. Actually, I never thought about my hair. I always didn't care what it looked like. So, whether I have hair or a bald head, I don't care. I'll join in!"
"Okay, let's go!" said Sebastian and stood up.
"What? Right now?" asked Marten in amazement.
"Yes, we're going over to my uncle's barbershop, which is open longer for you today," Cem answered, "Three of us are going home this evening with a fresh bald head. Are you looking forward to it?"

We entered the barbershop, where Cem's uncle and his cousin Tuncay were already waiting for us.
Cem introduced the three with the words, "Here are Ahmed, Alex and Marten, our new employees. They urgently need a haircut for their job!"
The three took off their jackets and took their seats in the barber's chairs. Behind Ahmed in the black shirt stood Cem's uncle. Alex in a T-shirt was served by Tuncay, and behind Marten in the tank top stood Cem.
All three had their cloaks put on them.

Sebastian and I approached them. We wanted to see this spectacle up close!

All the barbers grabbed the clippers at the same time and switched them on.
Their buzzing filled the room.
The sound made me excited. I felt my heart beating up to my throat. Three people were about to change radically!
"We'll start at the back!" Cem commanded, "Are you ready?"
Everyone nodded, the barbers and the customers.

My heart seemed to beat so violently as if it wanted to burst as the clippers were set synchronously at the neck and the head was lifted high. The first bald track!
Little by little, the back of the heads was freed from the hair. Much bare skin was revealed.

"Let's continue at the left!" Cem ordered, and all the barbers began to shave the left temples. The three guys on the chairs now could see the work of the clippers for the first time.
"Damn, that's short!" exclaimed Alex.
"It's going to be even shorter," said Cem, "the clipper will be followed by the blade later. You can be curious!"

While Alex looked a little frightened, Ahmed and Marten seemed to be cooler. Ahmed didn't say a word but seemed to look at his increasingly bald head with pleasure. Marten talked almost continuously and shifted back and forth on the chair. Cem had a hard time with him. "Now don't fidget around here! If you sit still, you'll get a lollipop from me later," he said.
After the right temples were also shaved, the three barbers stopped dramatically.

"Now we'll do the rest!" cried Cem, "Off through the middle!"
The clippers left a bald strip on the heads.
Everybody seemed to be shocked. Even Ahmed's eyes widened.

Three baldies ran their fingers over their heads.
"Like sandpaper!" Alex said and giggled.
Marten shouted several times in a squeaky voice "Oh my God! Oh my God!"
Ahmed, on the other hand, enjoyed the new feeling in silence.

After the three had washed their heads, the shaving cream was prepared and then applied with gentle circular movements.
"Ah!" moaned Marten a little theatrically, but with visible comfort.
Ahmed and Alex sat there with their eyes closed and a slight smile while their heads were lathered up.

While the foam opened the pores, Sebastian gave a small speech.
"Dear employees," he began in an ironic tone, "You should always keep your bald heads nice and smooth and shiny. So don't come to work with a five o'clock shadow on your head! Please shave before starting work! And once a week, I'll pay you for a professional head shave here in the barbershop."
"You'll get a special discount for the employees!" Cem's uncle interjected and laughed.

The razors began to scrape the stubbles from the scalp, with the three barbers working synchronously this time as well, starting at the ape of the neck, continuing at the temples and finally shaving the top of the head clean.
No one spoke, not even Marten said anything. You could only hear the scraping of the razors and now and then the rustling of a cloak.

The heads were washed a second time, disinfected with aftershave and finally brought to a high gloss with the help of a lotion.
We gave some time to the three newly-born bald heads to get used to the new look and the unfamiliar feeling.
"I feel a never-before-known cool breeze on my skull," Alex said and ran his hand over his head.
Marten posed in front of the mirror and flexed his muscles. "Hey, I look hot!" Then he grabbed his head with both hands and slowly let them glide over it.
Meanwhile, Ahmed looked at himself in the mirror in silence and felt his flawlessly smooth head with his fingers.

"Welcome to "Cueball No. 0!" shouted Sebastian, "Come here, cueballs!"
We made a circle and stroked each other's bald heads while Tuncay and Cem's uncle looked at us in amusement. This feeling of stroking two bald heads while feeling someone else's hand on the own bald head is incomparable!

Epilogue

The opening of our club "Cueball No. 0" was a big success.

In the afternoon after the opening, the six of us met very tired and very happy in the club.
The local press had taken notice of us, and we looked at the articles on our mobile phones. Our opening party was highly praised, Cem's mural was described with admiring words and even the barbershop of Cem's uncle was mentioned. Six bald guys are a popular photo motif. Really every article also showed a photo of us. In the twinkle of an eye, we had become popular.
"I haven't had the pleasure yet," Marten said to the group, "But I think that's how you might feel when you've just got married."
"It's very close to it," grinned Ahmed, who was the only married man of us.
Alex laughed and said, "If I get married, I'll do it with a bald head, no matter what my future wife should say!"

Then the door opened. Someone entered, of whom we could only make out the outline because of the backlight.
"Excuse me," we heard a female voice, "I hope I don't disturb you. Are you also looking for women as employees?"
"That depends!" I said.
"My name is Marie," said the woman, came closer and stopped under the ceiling lamp.
She put down her bag and took the hood off her head.
She exposed a shapely bald head while smiling.

"Welcome to us!" we said almost in unison, while Alex devoured Marie with his eyes.

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