Snagg
Six months had passed since Nick had given in to Tom’s demand that he sacrifice his long hair and shave his head. (More on this in my story “Nicholas becomes Nick”)
One night, as they were walking from the birthday party of Nick’s best friend Boris toward Tom’s apartment, Tom said, “Your friends are really nice. But get them to get a decent haircut! If we move in together soon, they’ll certainly come over regularly, and I don’t want to have guys with girly hair sitting on our couch.”
Besides Boris, Nick’s closest friends were Leon and Dylan. Boris had shoulder-length sandy-blond curls; Leon’s dark brown hair was cut into a 1950s style pompadour; and Dylan had a shaggy, grown-out reddish-blond mullet with light-blond highlights.
“Of course, I’d love to see their heads shaved,” Tom added, “but a military haircut will do as well.”
“How am I supposed to get them to cut their hair?” Nick asked. “Should I tell them, ‘My boyfriend doesn’t like your hair. Go to the barber!’?”
“I don’t care how you do it, but turn them into real men!”
Nick slowed his pace. “Their hairstyles look awful, yeah, that’s true, I know, but it’s their choice to walk around like that.”
“Look, the best thing you can do for a friend with girly hair is to get him to get a haircut—a masculine one. Boris’s look might be okay for a member of an ’80s rock band, but he’s a lawyer. And he can’t find a job at a law office, so he has to settle for being a low-paid online lawyer.”
“You think it’s because of his hair?”
“Absolutely! Plus, he hardly ever goes on dates. It’s the same with Leon and Dylan.”
“There are men who are into men with long hair…”
“But there don’t seem to be very many of them. All three of them are constantly complaining about their lackluster love lives.”
Nick sighed. “I know. And when it comes to jobs, things aren’t going any better for Leon and Dylan either.”
“Leon could try his hand at being an Elvis impersonator. But as an accountant?”
“And Dylan looks like the soccer players I used to see on TV when I was a kid.”
“But he’s not a soccer player—he’s a sports manager.”
Nick decided to try Boris first. The decision came spontaneously when he met Boris for lunch a few days later.
“How did your job interview go this morning?” Nick asked.
Boris groaned. “Don’t ask! As soon as I walked into the room, I had the feeling they didn’t want me.”
“But this time it can’t be because they were homophobic, right?”
“No, it was that law firm where only gay men work.”
Nick got up to get some coffee. “Do you have any other job applications in the works?” he asked after he sat back down at the table.
Boris shook his head. “I’m starting to run out of places to apply to.”
Nick took a sip of coffee. “I’m still with the same company, but now I’m assigned more interesting campaigns and get paid better.”
“Glad to hear it. What are you doing right that I’m doing wrong?”
“The turning point—when things started to improve—is pretty clear.”
“Since when? Did you sleep with your boss?”
Nick laughed. “No, the turning point was when I shaved my head.”
“But you shaved your head because Tom wanted you to, not to improve your career prospects, right?”
“True, but since I’ve been bald, I’m clearly perceived differently at work.”
“So your advice is that a man who wants to get ahead in his career should shave his head?”
“You could give it a try.”
Boris wrapped a strand of his shiny hair around his index finger. “Do you realize what you’re saying? I’ve had long hair since I was 15. My hair is my identity.”
“Identity is a big word. Is your hair really that relevant? Are you sure you’re not overestimating its importance?”
“Hard to say. These are questions I’ve never thought about before.”
“If you don’t want to shave your head, at least get a haircut. The shorter, the better.”
Boris stood up. “I don’t know if I’m willing to sacrifice my hair. I need to sleep on it.”
“Alternatively, you could change careers,” Nick said as they walked toward his office. “If you can’t make it as a lawyer, you could try becoming a shampoo model.”
“Well, then I could have skipped all those years at university.”
The next morning, when Nick checked his phone after waking up, he had a message from Boris: “Can you come over before work and shave my head?”
Nick replied, “Are you sure?”
“There’s a new job posting. It sounds perfect. I want to take some new application photos after breakfast and send in my application today.”
“I’ll be right there.”
“Thanks for coming right away,” Boris said as Nick walked into the apartment. “I want to get this over with as soon as possible. I lay awake almost all night, mulling it over. I’m not sure it’s the right decision, but even if I spend months thinking about it, I still won’t be any clearer.”
They went into the bathroom, and Nick took his clippers out of his backpack. “I guess you don’t have your own?”
Boris shook his head. “I only have a beard trimmer.”
“A beard trimmer will do in a pinch, but this thing here is much better. It’ll shave you bald in no time.”
Nick had at most a quarter of an hour before he had to head off to work. He didn’t have to shave as quickly as an army barber, but he did need to hurry a bit.
Boris took off his T-shirt and sat down on the edge of the bathtub. “I never thought I’d ever be so desperate that I’d let someone shave my head.”
“Don’t call yourself desperate. Just think of it as a step forward.”
“Do you think I’ll look good with a smooth scalp?”
“Don’t worry, bro! A smooth scalp will go perfectly with your toned body.”
Nick fired up the clippers. He pressed the clippers against Boris’s forehead, shaved the first strip, and long strands of blond hair fell into the bathtub.
“You’re fast. I wanted to say a prayer first.”
“You’ve never been religious,” Nick said, continuing to shave.
“There’s something religious about having your head shaved. Think of Buddhist monks.”
“For me, it’s mostly sexual.”
“Well, I have to admit, I’ve jerked off a few times to pictures of bald guys.”
There was no more long hair on top of Boris’s head, so Nick turned his attention to the sides. With just a few strokes, the left ear was exposed, then the right.
“If you’re bald yourself,” Nick said, “you don’t have to jerk off to pictures of bald guys anymore—you can date them.”
“Do you date other men besides Tom?”
“Tom gets off on letting other bald guys fuck me. Or we’ll find a long-haired guy on Grindr, and then I’ll shave his head.”
Nick was now trimming the back of Boris’s head. The clippers moved upward from the nape of his neck toward the crown, continuing their destructive work.
“You weren’t always such a kinky pig, were you?” Boris asked. “I always thought you were just into regular sex.”
“Things change.”
Nick switched off the clippers. “Your mop is history.”
Boris stood up and looked at himself in the mirror above the sink. He stroked his head and felt the extremely short stubble that remained.
“Wow! I look so butch. Do you think I should keep the beard?”
“Yes, but trim it a little.”
Nick glanced at the clock on his phone. “Can you manage to shave your head smooth with a razor on your own? Then I’d have time to quickly make myself a cup of coffee in the kitchen.”
“No problem!” said Boris, and took a can of shaving cream from the shelf next to the sink.
When Nick came back into the bathroom a few minutes later to say goodbye, Boris had already clean-shaven most of his head, and only a few spots were still covered with shaving cream.
“Bye, then! And good luck with your job application!”
“Thanks for your help!”
“You’re welcome! One thing a friend with a shaved head is good for is giving his buddies a shaved head, too.”
The following Saturday, Nick went out to a bar with Boris, Leon, and Dylan. Boris showed up half an hour late. “Dude, what happened to your hair?” Leon asked right away.
“Sorry for being late. I had a date.”
“A date?” Dylan asked, surprised.
“How did the job interview go yesterday?” Nick asked.
“Stop!” Boris said. “I’m going to get a drink first.”
After he came back from the bar with a beer, he took a big gulp, then answered the questions. “Nick shaved my head. Which was the kickoff to an awesome series of events. Five dates, and I got the job.”
“I never would’ve thought you’d ever cut your hair,” Leon said.
“Me neither. But if I’d known what it would lead to, I would’ve done it sooner.”
After they clinked glasses, Boris asked, “So, how are things going with you guys?”
Leon rolled his eyes. “Last night I dreamed that I had to move back in with my parents because I couldn’t find a job.”
“You could shave your head too,” Dylan suggested in a sarcastic tone. “Maybe then you’ll finally get a job.”
“You’ve been looking for a job longer than I have. Why don’t you shave your own head?”
“Guys, I’m sure you’ll find a job soon,” Nick said.
Leon touched his perfectly styled hair with his fingertips. “I’ve actually been thinking about whether it would help to have my hair cut. Not a shaved head, but shorter.”
Nick took a picture of Leon’s head with his phone. “I have an app that lets you see what you’d look like with different hairstyles.”
He held his phone out to Leon. “Here, how about this?”
“That’s not shorter—it’s a lot shorter!”
“Yeah, a very short, neat crew cut. A high skin fade and not too much left on top.”
“That’s extreme!”
“I’d call it accurate,” Nick said. “Exactly what you’d expect an accountant to look like.”
“When you still had long hair, you’d never have suggested a haircut like that.”
“True. But now I don’t have long hair anymore—I don’t have any hair at all—which means I have a different perspective.”
Nick downed the last of his beer. Then he continued, “But actually, this isn’t about me right now—it’s about you. More specifically, it’s about how you could improve your chances in the job market.”
Leon crossed his arms. “What do the rest of you guys think?”
“Go find a barber as soon as possible,” Boris replied.
“You shouldn’t let our two bald guys here pressure you into anything!”
“Dylan, are you afraid you’ll be the only hippie among us?” Nick asked.
Boris looked at his phone. “Google Maps says there’s a barbershop two blocks away that’s still open. Let’s go there, Leon!”
“You don’t have to do anything at all!”
“Shut up, Dylan!” said Nick. “By the way, a buzz cut would look really good on you. All buzzed down to 3 millimeters.”
“Are you crazy?”
“No, not at all! I just want my friends to find a job.”
Dylan stood up and accidentally knocked over his beer. “I came here to relax and have a drink with you guys, not to be dragged off to a barber.”
He turned around and hurried out of the bar.
Nick made a move to run after Dylan, but Leon held him back. “Leave him alone! He’ll calm down. Let’s better have a shot before we head to the barbershop! I need to work up a little courage.”
“So you’ve made up your mind?” Boris asked. “You want to get your hair cut short, then?”
“I don’t know if I want to, but I’m going to do it. I’m going to get a crew cut. Just like in the picture on Nick’s phone.”
Half an hour later, Leon was sitting in a barber’s chair, the cape already draped around him.
“So you’re looking for a big change,” said Magnus, the barber, a burly guy in his 40s with a bald head and a full beard.
Leon nodded. “Yeah, it’s time.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to go bald like your two buddies?” asked Magnus, pointing to Nick and Boris, who were sitting on the waiting bench.
“Not today! I want to keep at least a little bit of hair.”
First, Magnus washed Leon’s hair to get rid of all the hairspray. Then he roughly dried it with a towel.
“I can’t remember the last time I saw you with your hair down,” Nick said.
“Don’t get used to that look,” Boris said. “It’ll be gone in a minute.”
Magnus picked up a pair of clippers and attached a guard. “I’m going to start by removing some bulk.”
He turned on the clippers and placed them at the nape of Leon’s neck. With quick strokes, he then trimmed all the hair to about 2 centimeters.
Leon watched in disbelief in the mirror as his beloved hair disappeared. When the clippers fell silent, his gaze wandered to the floor. “All that hair down there was on my head?”
“Elvis probably said the same when he had to join the army,” Nick remarked.
“You like Elvis?” Magnus asked.
“Not the music,” Leon replied. “I just like the hairstyle—well, I liked the hairstyle. Now I’m obviously going for a more contemporary look.”
“I think we need a new nickname for him,” Boris said.
“You guys called me ‘Elvis’ behind my back?”
Nick laughed. “Of course! What else?”
Magnus took the guard off the clippers, positioned them well above Leon’s left ear, and created a guideline all the way around the head. After that, all the hair below the guideline was shaved off.
“It’s more noticeable now that my ears stick out a little,” Leon said.
“Who cares!” Boris replied. “Just think of your ears as part of your new bad-ass look.”
“Exactly!” Nick added. “A guy who looks like a recruit doesn’t worry about whether his ears stick out.”
Next, Magnus worked with different guards to achieve a smooth transition to the longer hair on top. He then trimmed the top even shorter—considerably shorter.
It was shorter than in the photo—just a few millimeters, Leon thought—but he didn’t dare say anything.
“You won’t be able to style it anymore,” said Magnus. “From now on, your mornings will be more relaxed—you can sleep in a little longer or enjoy a leisurely breakfast before heading to work.”
“I don’t have a job right now…”
“Is that the reason for your makeover?”
Leon nodded.
“Who would hire Elvis as an accountant?” Nick said.
Magnus set the clippers aside and lathered the sides and back of Leon’s head with shaving cream.
“So you’re looking for a job as an accountant?” Magnus asked, and began to shave off the lather along with the remaining stubble. “Well, this barbershop is part of a chain, and the office is desperately looking for a new accountant. Should I give you the contact information?”
Leon grinned. “Sure.”
After Magnus had finished the wet shave, he noted something down on a piece of paper and handed it to Leon. “They’ll appreciate your clean-cut appearance. Even though an accountant works in the office and isn’t usually seen by customers, they prefer employees who look like they’ve seen the inside of a barbershop before.”
After they left the shop and were walking through the streets, Leon couldn’t stop rubbing his hands over his head.
“Someone seems to be very fascinated by his new haircut,” Boris remarked.
“It feels strange and awesome at the same time.”
“You definitely don’t look like you’re about to burst into tears over your lost hair,” Nick remarked.
“I’m actually in the mood to party! Let’s find a place to dance and celebrate that obstacles can be overcome!”
Leon got the job. “I don’t even have to wear a long-sleeved shirt to cover up my tattoos,” he told Nick two weeks later when they met up for a jog after work. “All my colleagues have tattoos, are muscular, and have damn short hair.”
“Sounds like paradise!”
Leon stopped at an outdoor gym. “Unlike at my previous jobs,” he said as he pulled himself up on a bar, “the straight guys are so sure of their heterosexuality that it never even occurs to them to have a problem with gays. We can just be a bunch of dudes, working together in a relaxed way.”
Nick kept jogging in place. “And how are things going on the dating front?”
“It might be a little unprofessional, but I’m hooking up with a colleague during my lunch break.”
More weeks went by.
“I saw Dylan on the street today,” Tom then said one evening as he was preparing dinner with Nick. “You didn’t tell me he got a buzz cut. I almost didn’t recognize him.”
Nick dropped the knife. “I haven’t seen Dylan in a while. I didn’t know he had a buzz cut now.”
“A really short one. It suits him.”
Nick picked up the knife. “So none of my closest friends have long hair anymore.”
“Mission accomplished, I’d say. Just in time for our housewarming party.”
After dinner, Nick called Dylan. “Why didn’t you tell me about your makeover?”
Nick heard Dylan take a deep breath. “I guess I was too proud to admit that you were right. Soon after I buzzed my head, I got a job with our local basketball club, and I also have a new boyfriend. A guy with a horseshoe flat top.”
“Cool! Bring him to our party!”
