My Summer Shavings

My Summer Shavings

By JimB (C)opyright October 2022

So, I kept it all summer.

I endured the jeers of my friends.

I laughed off the “do you have cancer?” questions of the patrons.

But, as the tan evened up on my scalp I shaved daily, I fell in love with the look and feel of total baldness.

I’ll never forget the first time I shaved my head, although the details of the shaving were lose in the fog of alcohol and humidity.

It was nineteen six five and shaved heads while still fairly rare, were starting to become a little more execrable.

Some younger end of the “baby boomers” were choosing shave their head over the laughable comb overs.

In the nightclubs, men and women with full heads of hair were stating to show up with a shaven head.

Especially in Florida, New York City, New Orleans, as well as a few other southern larger cities where the edgy style had the added benefit of offering relief from the oppressively hot and humid summers.

All my life I’d been fascinated, and truthfully aroused, by the idea of radically short hair cuts and shaven heads.

But, I never gave in to what was becoming a fetish.

I’ve never gone more radical than the “Clooney” style “Caesar Cut”, which I was sporting in nineteen ninety-six.

I was a bartender at a beach side Tiki Bar and the days were in the ninety degrees and ninety-eight per cent humidity.

My Caesar cut was overgrown and I had planned on seeing my barberette after my shift.

But, during that shift, with sweat pouring down my neck, I drank way too many Tequila shorts.

So, when i sat down in the barber chair and the cape was around my neck, I told my barbertte to shave my head.

She laughed a little and asked me if, “I was sure.”

I told her to shave my head.

She shaved me completely.

I wish I remembered if I was scared or excited.

I wish I could remember what part of my head was shaved first.

But, my first clear, reliable memory was waking up from a nap, around sever that night, walking past my bedroom mirror and seeing a ridiculously white scalp, made even sillier by the deep and clearly defined tan of my face.

But, I loved the look.

Had always secretly wanted it.

Had sexually fantasized about it.

So, I kept it all summer.

I endured the jeers of my friends.  I laughed off the “do your have cancer” questions of the patrons.

But, as the tan evened up on the scalp I shaved daily.

I fell in love with the shaved look and like the smoothness.

But, after awhile the daily maintenance began to feel like a chore.

If I skipped more than a day, my thick hair was painful and difficult to shave away.

So, after four months, I grew it back.

Never long.

No more than half an inch on top, the sides usually buzzed shorter.

But, the next July, as the heat and humidity started to beat on me again, I went back to my barberette and had her shave me again.

This time, with all my senses, I had the kind of head shaving experience I wanted.

It was tactile, exciting, and sensuous to watch and feel myself get shaved.

Having seen it a year before, the reactions from my friends and family was pretty mundane.

I liked the look and feel.

But, I missed the shock of the bartender and the extreme reaction of my friends.

I shaved regularly until mid-September when I would go back to my buzz cut, i refreshed every week.

The next summer, I wanted to get shaved again.

But, I also wanted to recapture the shock value.

I still had the same job and the same friends.

So, I decided to mix things up by getting the shave by a new barberette.

I let my buzz grow out for an extra two weeks, leaving me with an inch of hair.

I chose “Clipper’s Barber Shop” in town.

I would go on Saturday, their busiest day, hoping for maximum reaction.

The barber shop was filled with middle aged and older men getting a “regular” hair cut or having the fringe trimmed around their bald skulls.

Teenage boys getting the summer Crew Cut and a few middle to older women getting “regulars” trims.

A few moms bringing young boys for their summer cuts.

I waited nearly an hour for my turn and the barber shop was still full of people waiting behind me.

As the elderly barberette wrapped paper around my neck and caped me, she asked, “What it’ll be today, young lady?”

Loud enough to ensure everyone in the barber shop could hear me, I said, “I want you to shave me smooth.

“Hot lather, straight razor, the works.”

I left no doubt to what I wanted and the barberette stammered a bit as she said, “You’re the boss.”

I felt every eye in the barber shop on me as she ran the clippers over my head, leaving barely visible stubble.

The crowd seemed surprised when she wrapped m head in a warm wet cloth and even more curious as she spread warm lather over my head and shaved me.

She re-lathered me and shaved again, this time against the grain.

Then, she surprised me and the others in the barber shop when she asked, “EYEBROWS?”

I sat there looking at my self in the mirror, over the waiting customers.

“Sure,” I told her.

She spread some lather over each eyebrow and shave them.

I had never thought about shaving my eyebrows.

But, when I saw the expression of some of the women, mothers.

Their surprised and shocking look was what I was looking for.

As I stood up after she was done, all eyes were still on me.

I heard a mother ask her twelve year old daughter if, “she wanted a hair cut like that.”

I loved my shaven look.

I fell in love with the shaved eyebrows.

A few of the female customers, at the club, loved the shaved eyebrows.

But, the shaved head.

Some of them even started shaving their eyebrows.

I loved the silky smooth feel.

But, OH MY GOD!

I was suddenly addicted to the attention. I stayed shaved all summer and regrew my winter buzz cut.

But, I kept my eyebrows shaved.

I knew come next summer, I was going to get shaved again.

By a new barberette, in a crowded barber shop, with all eyes on me, as they gasped and watched my head of hair getting clippered and shaved to bare scalp.

That became my annual routine.

By the fifth year, my friends didn’t even bother to react or acknowledge I’d shaved my head.

It wasn’t new to them.

It wasn’t a surprise.

So, beside my love of my summer shaveness, the only rush came from the shock of strangers.

Each year as much as I loved short neat hair cut, I’d add extra weeks between my last buzzcut and the summer shave, making the transformation increasingly extreme.

And, I had to drive farther and farther to find a barber shop I’d never been to.

A couple of years ago, I had my hair clippered down to half an inch in April and didn’t touch it again until the start of July.

With four inches of hair, which to me felt like a hippie mop.

On a Saturday morning, I went off in search of a new barber barber to skin me.

I decided to mix it up a bit and make the experience even more alien.

I found this more trendy barber shop.

When I entered the barber shop there were more women, and girls, than men and boys.

There were two barbers and two barberette.

They weren’t dressed like the barbers and barberette, with the white shirt and bland pants for the barbers and white blouses and black skirts of the barberettes.

These barbers and barberettes were dressed in colored shirts and blouses, jeans, tennis shoes or sandals.

Their hair was somewhat chopped and colored with different colors.

The waiting chairs were gone, in their place were couches and sofas.

They had wine if you wanted and at no charge.  Soft drinks and cookies for the boys and girls.

They had old barber chairs.  One barberette had a barber chair made of wood.

I started to leave when I looked at a sign over the barberettes barber chairs.

“The shorter you go ….. The CHEAPER your hair cut is.”

That got me wondering.

Then, I noticed the barber in the last barber chair caping a middle age man with long hair.

“The usual?” he asked.

“He wants it buzzed,” a soft elderly lady said as she was getting out the barberette’s barber chair, with her head freshly buzzed.

I looked at a few of the other customers.

Some had some what long hair or longer than just below the shoulder.

Boys with crew cut or high-n-tight.

I looked at a few women, moms, their hair were colored with strikes of different colors.

I swear I even saw a little girl with her head shaved.

But, after a second glance her long blond hair was just pulled tightly over her head.

Then, I heard the other barber asked his customer, “What will it be?”

“IF I get my hair really short,” the soft voice asked.

“How much cheaper will my hair cut be?”

“That is just if one of the barberettes cut your hair,” he told her.

“What number do you have?” asked one of the barberettes.

“NINE,” she replied showing her the number card, which I did not have.

I looked around and saw the number cards were at the door to the barber shop and walked over and got number eleven.

“You will be next for me,” the barberette, in the regular barber chair, said.

She got out the barber chair and sat in a waiting chair.

Then, a boy was sitting in the barber’s barber chair.

“Quarter inch,” the boy said.

I looked at the lady.  Her hair was long passed her shoulders.

A few minutes later, the barberette said, “OKAY, your turn.”

They lady got up and sat in her barber chair.

“So, how short do you want to go?” she asked.

“What will it cost if I got a high-n-tight?” she asked the barberette.

She combed her hair out, pulled it thought her finger.

Pulling her hair back and close to her head, the barberette said, “Two dollars.”

“I was hope it would a little cheaper,” she told the barberette.

“IF you wanted ….,” the barberette said as she brushed and pulled her hair closer.

“NO,” she said.

“I don’t think they would like that cut at work.”

“Two dollars high-n-tight will be okay.”

The barberette reached for her clippers and placed it in the center of her head.

The elderly couple was waking passed.  He had his arm around her waist and his right hand was patting her right lower cheeks.

“It’s been years,” she said.

“But, I think we can do that too.”

Slowly she moved the clippers back over her head, leaving behind a quarter of inch of hair.

She made one pass next the first pass on the left and right side.

She tossed the attachment on her shelf.

Without saying a word she began moving the attachmentless clippers upward on the right side of her head and slowly the back and to the left side.

She trimmed the top and sides together.

She removed the cape and spread a large towel over her shoulders.

With shaving cream in her left hand, she began spreading the lather over the right side of her customer’s head, to the back and the left side.

“Seeing this, the lady said, “Maybe I should have excepted your offer!”

“Too late,” the barberette told her as she started shaving the leather.

When the shaving was finished, she began moving her finger tips over the shaved sides.

“Tell you what,” the barberette said.

“Come back in two weeks,” barberette began, as she looked and smiled at the other barberette.

“I will give you the SPECIAL at NO cost.”

The lady looked at her and brushed her right hand over the top of her head.

“What if I came back next Saturday?” she asked as she walked to the waiting chair where her purses was.

Taking our two dollars and handing it to the barberette, who say, “Be here for ten.”

“Number ELEVEN.”

I got up and walked to her barber chair, “Number eleven.

“And, I want you to shave my head really smooth.”

“My your customer is a mine reader,” the other barberette said.

“This one will be FREE.”

After my hair had grown to about an inch, I went downtown, one Saturday, were the barber shops were “men and boys ONLY”, the sign said.

But, i just did not pay attention to the sign and walked in waiving a hundred dollar bill.

The barbers looked at me.

“What’s all this waving for?” he asked me.

“To get my head SHAVED!” I told him and took a seat in a waiting chair.

“Head shave!” the young barber said.

“Yes,” I told him and crossed my legs.

“A head shaving only cost fifteen dollars,” he said.

“But, I’ll shave you for the hundred dollars.”

He walked over and took my hundred dollar bill and put in his pocket, “You will be my next customer.”

“Okay, lady,” he said waving my hundred dollar bill.

I smiled and walked to his barber chair.

He tucked a large towel in the collar and spread it over my shoulders.

He sprayed my head with warm water.

I heard the sound, I came to know, of the shaving dispenser.

I watched, in the mirror above the waiting chairs.

He turned and began piling the shaving lather over my head.

“What are you doing!” I asked him as he worked the lather in my hair.

“You have to take your clippers and buzz my head to the skin.”

“WHY!” he replied.

“All you said “To get my head shaved”.

“Didn’t you!”

I had to admit that I did say that.

With my head all lathered, he started stropping his straight razor.

“John,” the older barber said to his customer, in his barber chair.

“I have to watch this hair cut.

“Do you mind if stop cutting your hair.”

“Just turn your barber chair so I can watch, too,” his customer said.

I looked at the other customers in the waiting chair.

Two were shaking their head.  One just crossed his arms and sat back.

The teenage boys, who just opened the door, looked and stumbled, as they looked at the young barber and me.

He raised the razor to my head, “Ready!”

I smiled and said, “More that a million dollars sure.”

He placed the razor to my forehead and shaved slowly.

Then, he held the lather cover razor over my lap and shook the shaving lather and my hair in my lap.

He continued shaving my head like this, until the right side of my head smooth.

As he walked to the left side of his barber chair, the older barber said, “TURN you barber chair so we can watch.”

With my head shaved, he moved his fingers over my eyebrows.

“I see you shave them, too!” he said.

“I smiled.

“What will it cost me?” I asked him.

He raised his razor and shaved my eyebrows.

“Just a smile,” he said.

I walked to the door and turned.

“If you take me our to dinner, tonight,” I said.

“You can shave me down below.”

“Sorry, my wife shaves there,” he replied.

“Some times she let’s me shave her there.

“And, I do check for smoothness.”

I thought that was the best enjoyable head shaving, until …..

A few weeks later and some hair growth.  I decided to go back to “Clipper’s Barber Shop”.

Just to see how busy they were.

As I walked in I got a surprise.

Each barberette had women in their barber chair.

One barberette was in the middle of a short High-N-Tight.

One barberette was in the middle of shaving a lady’s head.

I stood, in surprise.

Then, I heard a mother ask her twelve year old daughter if, “she wanted a hair cut like that.”

To her mother’s surprise, my surprise, even to the barrette her mother was pointing to, the girl said, “YES.  If you go first.”

One barberette was moving her attachmentless clippers over a teenage girl’s head.

I walked to a waiting chair and said to my self I said, “Hope she get’s her head shaved.”

I could not believe the change “Clipper’s Barber Shop” had made since that visit.

I there were more women, moms, teenage girls, and a few little girls that back then.

I wondered “when did this change start”.

Was it because of that day I got my head shaved there.

How freely the barrettes were.  How open their female customers were.

‘NEXT,” I heard by the barberette I was sitting in from of.

I started to get up.

Then, my eyes caught site of the mother walking to her barber chair.

“Hi, Missy,” the barberette, Louise, said.

“Ready for another Crew Cut!”

She crossed her legs.  She smiled.

“No,” she said.  “Not this time.”

Louise looked at her, “I thought you liked the Crew Cut.”

“By the way,” Missy said.

“Doris, will getting the same hair cut.”

“WHAT!” Doris said and stood up and started to walk to the barber chair.

“You said, “If you go first”.

“Well, I am going first.

“And, you will be getting your head shaved.”

“SHAVED?” Louise replied in a low voice.

“Shaved head coming up,” Doris said.

“Make that TWO head shaving,” Missy said.

Doris had her clippers, less any attachment.

Pointing it to Louise, “These will be first.”

She moved the clippers to Missy’s for head and slowly moved it over her head.

She smiled and pointed to little Louise, then to her head.

With her head lathered, Doris pointed her straight razor to little Louise.

“Your mother first,” Doris said.

“Louise next.”

Doris and Missy talked freely as she shaved.

Louis sat there looking at her mom, watching each shaving.

With Missy’s head shave, Doris said, “Eyebrows!”

“Mom first,” Missy said and pointed to Louise.

“When we get home, I’ll show you how to shave down there.”

Missy stepped from the barber chair and looked a Louise.

She smiled, “Eyebrows FIRST.”

Capped, Doris raised her straight razor to Louise’s eyebrows, “Eyebrows gone.”

“How shave my head,” Louise said with a smile.

Doris had her head down and her clippers slowly climbing up the back of her head.

“Like I said, If you go first,” Louise said.

I glance at one of the other barberettes who was caping a lady.

“Too hot for all this hair!” she said.

She turned her head to Louise, and point at Missy, “Like their hair cut.”

I looked twice.  I stared at the lady.

“MOM!” I said surprising.

“O’ didn’t see you,” she said and waived to me.

“Two years after you started going around for your hair cuts.

“First was a flattop, for two years.

“Then, a Crew Cut, for maybe four years.

“A High-N-Tight last year.

“Your Dad love the High-N-tight.

“This morning I said, “What the FUCK”.”

Doris was lathering her head, “How do you think I will look without eyebrows!”

“Like this!” Doris said and she slowly shaved her eyebrows.

When mom stepped from Doris’s barber chair, “Want to get a drink after your shaved hair cut!”

I smiled.

A week later I was laying in bed wondering, “I think I think I’ll write a story about my last twelve years.”