HaircuttingStories.com

"You're joking?"

He shook his head meekly. I took a moment to think through what he had just said. It still made no sense.

"Let me get this straight - in order for you to stand a chance of getting a promotion we have to entertain your boss's boss and to stand any realistic chance we......I.......have to pander to his little fetish, that's what you're saying isn't it?"

His expression changed to one of resignation, one eyebrow raised, his mouth scrunched up in that funny way of his.

"And what if we don't.....?"

"There's no point in getting him over and no promotion" he said, matter of factly.

"Just tell me who to call and we'll rattle his cage......"

"......there is no one to call, you can't complain to him about himself now, can you?"

I sat down on the arm of the chair.

"I'll have to think about it" I said eventually.

"There isn't anything to think about Lucy, either you do it or there's no chance of promotion. That's all it comes down to."

With that I went to bed, leaving him to sit and stare at the wall or whatever he was going to do.

I lay there in the darkness thinking through what he had told me. In a way I was glad, as he had been acting very strange the past couple of days. The question now was what should I do. It was quite clear from what he said that there would be no promotion for Russ unless we gave this guy what he wanted, no bigger car, no bigger house, nothing. From what Russ had told me, his career would be at a dead-end if he snubbed this guy, but there wasn't actually any guarantee of success even if we did give him what he was after. I must have drifted off to sleep eventually as Russ was waking me up, holding a cup of tea in his hand.

I tried to gather my thoughts and as I did, the proposition was back. Transform myself into a blonde vamp or Russ's career gets it. Great way to start the day.

Russ left the tea on the bedside table and left me alone. By the time that I had showered and got dressed, my mind was made up. I had no choice.

I hadn't heard Russ leave for work, but by the time I got downstairs, he had left. I had breakfast and as I ate, I looked through the phone book in search of a salon. For some reason, I didn't like the first one I rang, just didn't connect with the receptionist. She asked too many questions, things that I just didn't think were relevant. The second one was not only friendlier, they had a slot available later that morning.

The rest of the morning passed in a haze. I probably shouldn't even have driven, but there are some things that you have to do. I didn't know the salon that I was going to, so I drove past it just to check it out before I bothered parking the car. It looked fine, so my fate was effectively sealed. Car parked, one last look in the vanity mirror and I was walking.

"Hi, I'm Lucy, I've got an appointment with Ann" I said when I got into the salon.

The receptionist smiled and took my coat. My hair snagged one of the buttons as I took it off. Last time it will do that for a while, I thought. I held up my arms and she slid the gown over me, going round behind me to fasten it in one practised movement. I followed her through to the salon where Ann was waiting, tidying up her station in anticipation. I could see her look me up and down, assessing the package in a professional manner. Not to be outdone, I did the same to her.

Probably five years older than me, early to mid-forties, Very well turned out, elegant, good figure. A lady who looked after herself. Hopefully she was thinking along similar lines (apart from the age thing of course!!) and no doubt wondering what I was doing. I had wondered in the car about whether I should concoct a story or whether I should tell the truth. The truth made me sound weak and materialistic, so it was storytime.

"So, what's brought this on?" she asked after running her fingers through my hair for a few seconds. It was now lying on my shoulders, with the ends trying their best to actually get vertical again, but just failing. It was shoulder length, but that awkward in-between length where it wasn't a proper bob and couldn't quite bring itself to cascade down my back. One way or another it was time to do something about it, make a decision, even if I wasn't about to do what I was about to do.

"You know, Ann, the usual. A mid-life crisis type thing. If I don't do it now, I never will. Never know if it will suit me or not.

"So, you're sure, very short, very blonde?"

I nodded.

"And you're sure about the shade, a white blonde?"

A second nod. I couldn't bring myself to say anything. I was a little ashamed at having lied to her.

"And when you say very short........you mean very short?"

There I went again, nodding like a toy dog on the back shelf of a car.

She turned to one side and then turned back, a gadget in her hand. The air was filled with a buzzing sound. I flinched.

"Don't worry, I just want to get rid of the bulk to make it easier to work with" she said, trying to reassure me, but failing miserably.

The gadget was placed at my neck, just behind my right ear. She pressed it a little further and then it was moving. With a flick of her wrist, there was clear distance between me and the clippers, a strand of hair caught around her wrist. She shook it free and then positioned the clippers for another pass. They were obviously taking a lot of hair with each stroke, but I couldn't assess the true effect until she moved around to the front. The things were at my temple and then they moved. I closed my eyes, not wanting to embarrass myself with some reflexive request for her to stop, that it was all a mistake, that I didn't care about a bigger house.

I felt the clippers move over the crown of my head from one side to the other and then the other temple. The noise stopped. I felt her hand rub my scalp a couple of times.

"There" she said.

I opened my eyes. I don't know what I expected to see after hearing those clippers do their work for three or four minutes, but I expected more than was there. Much of my hair was in my lap or still sliding down the gown to join the clump that had gathered there. I have never been that good at judging distances, but there was certainly less that an inch of hair still attached to my head, and probably closer to half an inch.

"Don't worry, I'll tidy it up once we've done the colour. That's just so we don't waste time colouring hair that isn't going to be there afterwards."

As if that would reassure me, I thought.

The colouring process itself was less traumatic. I've had my hair coloured before so I knew what to expect and anyway, colour could be rectified without too much difficulty. It shouldn't be too much trouble to re-disover the dirty blonde shade that I had come in with. Cut hair could not be changed so easily, particularly when it was as short as mine now was.

With the colour removed, I was led back to the styling station with a towel draped around my head. I sat down and was unveiled, almost ceremoniously. It is one thing to try to imagine yourself with white blonde hair, it is quite another to actually see it and know that it is really you. Ann towelled it dry and combed it out for me. It did its best to try to lie down, but it was only a half-hearted effort.

She exchanged the comb for the clippers again.

"Right, we're still going very short?" she checked.

"I thought we were there already" I said, my attempt to lighten the situation not really succeeding.

"You can keep it this length if you want..." she said ".....but I thought we were going for the once in a lifetime thing."

There it was, my story coming back to haunt me.

"You're right Ann...........if I don't do it now..........." I said, doing my best to play along.

She placed a hand on my shoulder in a bid to reassure me. It was too late for that. The clippers were on again. My head was pursuaded forward, my chin pressed to my chest. I could feel the clippers move. They went up the back of my head. And again. They went quiet. My head stayed down, permission had not yet been granted for me to move. I could hear her fiddling with the clippers. I sensed her bend forward towards me a little.

"We'll go a bit shorter, I think" she said.

The clippers were on again, making their way eagerly over the path that they had just cut. Then it was time to level out my head and watch in amazement as she stroked my left temple with the blades. Blonde tufts fell to their fate, a flurry of white stubble flew through the air, too light to fall directly. In its place there was skin, an expanse of naked skin. Ann must have heard my jaw drop above the sound of the clippers.

"Don't worry, it'll be longer on top" she said. There was silence again as she put an attachment on the head of the clippers and then she was off again. True to her word, she was leaving my hair longer on top, but when she had effectively shaved me round the sides, that left her a lot of room for manouevre on top, a lot of room to claim that it was still longer than the sides. I just sat there, telling myself that a quarter of an inch was indeed longer than nothing, but not by much.

There was little chat as she finished her work. She did really scare me when she turned around and was holding a straight razor, but she used it sparingly along my neckline, the lightest touch sending tiny impulses through me. This gentleness contrasted with the rough bristles of the brush she used to sweep away any loose hairs from my collar and then the gown was unfastened. She stood back, leaving me to examine her handiwork. Deciding that I was strong enough to handle it, she held a mirror up to allow me to see the back of my head. There was the lightest hint of stubble up the back of my head, I could feel that, but in the mirror, it was invisible. I had entered the salon as a corporate wife and would leave it as a military cadet.

"You look stunning" she said.

I wasn't so sure, but perhaps given enough time, I would get used to it. As we walked back to reception, she gave me a few hints on how to care for it, encouraging me to come back in a week or so for a little light maintenance. She seemed more certain that I that I would want to keep it. I just wanted to get out of there and get home.

I got back to the car and realised that in my excitement I had left my mobile phone in its holder, in plain sight of anyone who walked past. That was the second time that I had done that, and got lucky both times. Perhaps next time I wouldn't be so lucky. The phone was showing a missed call. I picked up my voice mail.

It was Russ.

"Hi Lucy, it's me. Just wanted to let you know that everything's okay. Well, better than okay. I've got the promotion. No entertaining, no visit from the top-brass. I've got it. We'll go out........."

I didn't hear the rest of what he said. I just sat there.

Rate this story now.
5- Excellent 4- Very good 3- Good 2- Needs work 1- Poor  

Enter some comments about this story or see what others have said on the forums.