This morning I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, rubbing my shiny scalp. Felt some sandpaper stubble growing back – time for the weekly head shave ritual. Used to pay $25 every ten days at the barbershop before realizing how dumb that was for two minutes of work. Here’s exactly how I do it myself now:
Grabbing My Weapons
First things first – raided my shaving drawer. Pulled out the electric trimmer with no guard attached (old reliable Wahl from Walmart), that purple can of Barbasol shaving foam, a five-blade disposable razor, and a clean hand towel. Almost forgot the little folding mirror I stole from my wife’s makeup table last year – need that to see the back of my head.
Operation Stubble Removal
Started by plugging in the trimmer near the sink. Buzzed everything down real quick like mowing a tiny lawn – pressing hard around the crown area where hair grows stubborn. Little gray hairs flew everywhere, sticking to the faucet. Then hopped in the shower to wash off all the itchy prickles – scrubbed my scalp with that peppermint shampoo that makes your eyes water.
The Slippery Part
Dripped everywhere while towel-drying. Sprayed warm water on the razor head (cold razors suck). Shook that Barbasol can like a maraca before blasting a mountain of foam into my left palm. Slapped the warm goo all over my skull – looked like I’d dunked my head in whipped cream. Started shaving from my forehead backward in short strokes:
- First pass: Right temple to crown, pulling skin tight behind the ear
- Second pass: Left side same way – heard that satisfying scrape-scrape sound
- Tricky bit: Used the folding mirror to check the neckline, shaved upward against the grain there
Cleanup & Survival Tactics
Rinsed off under the tap and patted dry with the towel. Saw three spots near my right ear bleeding a bit (always cut myself there). Dabbed them with toilet paper like little white flags surrendering. Finished by slapping on some cheap moisturizer so my dome doesn’t peel like a snake next week. Took twelve minutes total from buzz to shine.
Left the sink looking like a barbershop crime scene. Short white hairs clinging to everything, splatters of shaving cream on the mirror. Worth it though – running my palm over smooth scalp now like a polished bowling ball. Feels amazing. Still got all my fingertips too – that’s what I call success.