Shaving My Head
There’s something quite liberating about shaving one’s head. No, I’m not speaking in terms of euphemisms. When I say I shaved my head, I meant just that. Taking frugality to another level, I have finally picked up the electric razor a dear special friend gave to me during the not-so-distant yesteryears and overcame my fear.
I’m an ultimate cheapo when it comes to haircut. After all, being blessed with a receding hairline, I hardly find it worth the investment to pay more than P100 (inclusive of tip) each time I get my head shaved. Obviously, you can either find me at the indie neighborhood barber shop or at Reyes Hair Cutters (and the clones.) After all, these barbers or hairstylists only spend an average of 15 minutes with my head (not withstanding the smirk of those who had to really joke about my hairline….) so why should I spend 3x or more than my allocated budget just for a lame shampoo? If I want a massage afterwards, I’d go to a spa instead.
Sounds reasonable and logical, right?
Now, thanks to the good news I received yesterday (more about this real soon), I realized I should prepare myself for the ultimate test of cost-consciousness should my desire to increase my knowledge in a world away from home actually push through. My dear special friend told me during the not-so-distant yesteryears that a haircut abroad, just like a movie ticket, would cost a fortune. If I am already complaining with the P200 Bruno’s (or Bench Fix) fee, how the h*ll am I supposed to survive if ever I’d go leavin’ on a jetplane?
Heck, I wouldn’t go all hipster and grow my hair and mustache and beard for a year or more just because I’m a cheapo. I’m a cheapo, but I’m not at thaaat level yet. Besides, Just 2 weeks of no haircut and shave would instantly make me look like a 40-year old, uhm, dude. Going longer without a visit to the barbershop would make me look like Rip Van Winkle with a bald spot.
And so, without further ado, I plugged the darned electric shavor and started to shave my head with matching background music reminiscent of all those cheesy Hollywood flicks wherein the protagonist finally had a stark self-discovery or pondered the need to do something heroic. I was actually initially scared that maybe I would cut myself or something, the second fear was I’d miss a spot and I’d look like a leper by tomorrow (or in Bisaya term “morag gitipos!”)
But lo and behold, it was actually very fun and invigorating. Now, with the privilege of having my own electric razor at home, I can conveniently shave my head whenever I feel like it so I won’t look like a sad case of a bad hair day (or the absence of it in some spots) whenever the “affordable barbershops” close for the day before I get to them. I must admit this will never cover the fact that I have bad hair genes, but who cares anyway?
I just found it funny when my dad discovered me with the electric razor. In heavily accented Bisaya, he exclaimed “***insert my dad’s nickname for me*** tagpila lang intawon ang patopi kong masamad ka ana! Singkwenta ra na sa kanto!” In English, he said “*** insert my dad’s nickname for me**** a haircut is just how much now if you cut yourself! It’s just fifty pesos at the corner!” Oh, dad. Aren’t you proud of yer son? Hehehe.
This little exercise of supposed independence is just one of my many trivial Boy Scout preparations for a probable life outside of my comfort zone. At any rate, even if I don’t really end up smelling cherry blossoms in the air in a few months time, seems like I’m already starting to learn a lot of newfangled things for my own development.
Heck, it’s a win-win situation! Here’s to hoping for the best!