Mr. Clean

I've been shaving my head now for the last seven or eight summers (maybe even longer). I've grown so used to the shaving that I don't even need a mirror. I can feel for my missed spots and I can do it in about three minutes.

Last night, Abdi wanted me to shave his hair. I can honestly say that a white man's hair comes off completely different than an African man's. Half way through, he said, "I think I'm supposed to come my curls out." I was like, "okay...sounds good to me." The combing did help, but the hair was beyond thick. We got it down to a buzz cut when he decided he wanted to go Dr. Evil. So, we got a razor and shaving cream and, wola! No more hair.

I guess karma is a free hair cut. I know that my $14 clippers have saved me numerous barber shop visits. And, I also know that there will be a day in the summers to come where I, too, will go for the bald look.