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We had been dating for about 2 months and had just begun to become comfortable with each other’s company. As we walked the path that went all the way around the lake Donna mentioned “I have a hair appointment tomorrow.”

I tried to seem not too interested except to ask “Do you need a ride?”

“Yeah that would help but that’s not why I brought it up.”

“Then what’s up?” I asked.

“I was wondering” she said hesitantly “how would you like my hair cut.”

I was thrilled but yet hesitated with an completely honest answer cause I didn’t want to say anything that would reveal my preferences especially if it would jeopardize this special relationship we had been developing. She was not my first girl friend but she was the first since leaving home and being on my own so this one was different. Thoughts of marriage and family had been worming their way through my head since I had met her. But now here she was putting me on the spot. I wanted to be honest but honesty could also lead her to conclude I was some sort of nut and end the relationship.

She was beautiful. No super model just a wonderful, friendly, warm person. Now with the topic of her hair coming up I had to not just wish for her hair to be the way I wanted but I may have to tell her. Her straight black hair parted in the middle fell just below her shoulders. Attractive enough but not what I had in mind.

I thought fast. “Answer two questions for me and then I will tell you the hair style I find most attractive on women.”

“What do you mean `most attractive’? She asked.

“What I mean is when I am at the mall or am shopping or at a party when I see a woman with this hair style I take a second even a third look. I will find a way to take a closer look by going past her at the store or mall.” I told her trying to not give away too much. “Now for my questions.”

“Okay, shoot” She said with a look of relief on her face that puzzled me.

“First, when you made the appointment what were you going to have done?” I asked.

“Oh, I guess I was planning to have an inch or two cut off. Just a trim.” She answered with some noticeable discomfort with the answer.

“Now tell me. If you were not concerned about what’s in and what’s not or what other people would say or the stylist trying to talk you out of it.setting all fear and anxiety aside and you were going to get the haircut you really want what would it be?” I ask anxiously anticipating the answer.

She hesitated. Thought long. Bit her lower lip and finally admitted. “I’d get it cut short. I don’t know how short but short.” She looked me with a look a hesitation like she was holding something back. There was a pause then she remembered she had an answer coming from me yet. “Now your turn” nudging me along.

Taking a deep breath I responded “The hair style I find most attractive on women is parted in the middle with the hair on top at the part about an inch and a half long then tapering to the sides and back so the ears and the neck are exposed” Now it was out there. My preference though really not as short as I really wanted it was shorter than what I thought I could hope for.

With a look of relief she said bluntly “Okay then but let’s do it ourselves.”

With that we got in the car and went to the nearest discount store. There we found a Wahl clipper set with multi-colored attachments ranging from 1/8″ to 1 ½”. We checked out but as we headed for the door Donna said “I forgot something. Wait for me outside and I’ll be right with you.”

Dutifully I went outside the store and waited for her to return with her purchase tightly wrapped in a paper sack. Not asking what she’d gotten we headed to my place.

After arriving she put her purchase on the coffee table covering it with her jacket. Clearly this was some secret. We set a chair in the middle of the kitchen and I could not stand it anymore. I told her “You know I told you what I liked but that doesn’t mean I know how to cut it that way. It takes someone who knows what they’re doing to get the taper right.”

“That’s okay hon. I wasn’t totally honest with you. I told you I wasn’t sure how short I wanted it but actually I do. I just wasn’t sure about how you would be about it.”

“What do you mean?” I asked while I struggled to open the package containing the clippers. She helped me open it, oil up the clippers and laid out the attachments in a row.

Sitting in the chair she said “I like the blue one.”

“You mean the 1″ one.”

“No, the other blue one.” With a combination of shock, surprise and excitement I picked up the blue one, the 3/8″ one, and attached it to the clippers.

“Are you sure?” I asked half expecting her to tell me she was only kidding.

“I told you I wasn’t completely honest before. Now I am being honest. I am sure so let’s get started.”

With that I plugged in the clippers and ran them right down the middle from forehead to crown. I repeated this motion several times on the top making the clipped part a little wider each time and making sure the attachment picked up any stray hairs as I went, then beginning with the right side, first going front to back then against the grain from the bottom to the top. All the while Donna had her eyes closed savoring the moment, clearly enjoying every bit of it.

I finished the back and left side in the same manner, tidying up the neckline and around the ears and double checking for any stray hairs. I placed my hand on her newly cropped head and spontaneously saying “That’s great.” Then “I believe we’re done.”

As she caressed her own head I began to gather up her hair from the floor putting it in the waste basket.

“No we aren’t done yet. I want you to answer the same question you asked me. `If you were not concerned about what’s in and what’s not or what other people would say or the stylist trying to talk you out of it.setting all fear and anxiety aside and you were going to get the haircut you really want what would it be?'” She asked in a determined but playful tone.

I knew I’d better give her the truth cause by now I knew she knew I had this thing for short hair. I could only muster up one word. “Bald.”

She said as she got up “I thought so. Have a seat,” offering me the chair as she headed for the living room. I sat in anticipation as she brought the sack in the kitchen with the items she got from the store. Taking my glasses off I was unable to clearly see what she had but I could tell there was a razor and shaving cream and something else.

“Ready?” She asked as she removed the blue attachment from the clippers. I was about to answer when I heard them turned on and plunged into the hair at my forehead. Just as I had done she removed the hair on the top, moved to the right, back then left side scarcely saying a word as she did her work. My excitement grew, heavy breathing, weak knees. When she finished with the clippers she put a wash clothe under hot wash and put it on my head. She did this repeatedly until she had done the whole head. Shaking up the can of shaving cream she applied it liberally until my head was covered. Placing a new blade in the razor she begin her work much as she had done while using the clippers starting at the top moving to the right, back and left side. When she was satisfied she removed the rest of the shaving cream with a towel. I tried to reach up to touch my newly shaved head but “No” she said, “not done yet.”

Surprised I immediately put my hand back down in my lap. Now I could hear her opening last remaining package she had bought at the stop. She squeezed the contents on the top of my head and began to smear in over my entire head. Pretty stinky stuff, I thought. When she seemed satisfied she had covered everything
she said. “I have to go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” As she was gone I could feel a kind of stinging on my head like little pin pricks. Coming out of the bathroom she got on the phone after asking what kind of pizza I’d like delivered. Finally, ten or fifteen minutes later she returned to the kitchen with a ragged but clean towel. Wiping as much of the cream from my head as she could then got the water going in the sink. Getting the sprayer going she instructed me to come over and to close my eyes tight and squeeze my nose shut with my fingers. Getting my head down in the sink using the sprayer she removed the remainder of the cream then dried my head with a clean towel announcing “We’re done.”

Immediately I placed my hand on my head. Smooth as glass I thought. “How.?” I began to say with her immediate answer “Nair.”

“This is sensational!” I exclaimed. With a big smile on her face and rubbing her own cropped head “So is mine.”

We discovered each other that day in more ways than one. Now after 8 years of marriage we continue to fulfill each other in everyway including in the way we want out hair. We live in a conventional world working at conventional jobs though. A women with closely cropped hair and a man with a full head of hair going for the bald look would not quite fit our bosses ideas. So we compromise. Her hair is clipped to the other blue 1″ attachment while I stick with the other blue attachment sometimes going up to the ½” one. Thankfully we both have long vacations so before we hit the road we renew our commitment to each other by cutting each others hair as we did that special day.

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