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Last summer while on vacation my girlfriend Rachel got her hair buzzed really short. I wrote about that in my story Interference, and this was indeed true. Little had been said since then about hair or haircuts. Before Christmas she went and got it trimmed around the sides and back but never discussed it with me. Other than that she just let it grow. Last weekend it was about 4 inches long and about 2 inches around her ears and back of the neck. I had avoided making any comments for fear of exposing my interference last summer that caused her to get so shorn, so my bringing up the topic was not an option.

She is about to start reading-week at university. This is her last year of a master’s program, and we were lying in bed Saturday morning. It was snowing lightly outside and I was in no rush to get up. She rolled towards me and asked, “You liked my hair short didn’t you?” That was the first time she had mentioned her hair and the haircut since last summer. I guess it was no surprise that I had enjoyed it since I was unable to control my passion for weeks after. She smiled, “I was thinking of trying it short again. It was real easy to look after.” My initial reaction did not involve words. But my hand slid between her legs and I suggested we could start there.

We hadn’t done that since we first met, but it only took 10 minutes for the fur to fly leaving me sliding my finger tips over her moist smooth crotch. Breakfast was not on our minds and by 9:30 we were driving to the plaza. I was not sure what had caused this sudden rush of passion, but I was not complaining. However, on our drive over she tempered my enthusiasm, “Don’t get too excited. I don’t want anything really close, just enough so I can run my fingers over it to keep it under control.” I didn’t care. With our morning activities her crotch was so wet, she had decided instead of wearing panties and jeans to simply slip on a dress. Our walk across the parking lot brought a squeal as the cold wind and snow blew up under her coat. The salon is a franchise chain and you take whoever is available.

We got a young gum chewer named Kim. She had chin length hair accented with some blue and pink. Before settling into the chair Kim suggested a wash. Rachel accepted. However, the supervisor stepped in and firmly told Kim to sweep around her chair and clean up her station, saying she’d take Rachel back for the wash. I sat and watched her cleaning, and I got the impression she was not as professional as the management might like. But as I said, you take what you get. Still I could not resist putting in my two cents worth once again.

I went over and pulled the photo from my wallet that I had taken just after her close cut last summer. In the photo her hair had been buzzed #3 over the top and #1 on the sides. But it was hard to tell so I told her the top was #2 and the sides and back were #000 shaved – #0. She looked at it for a moment and exclaimed simply, “Wow!” I added we both really enjoyed it short so she’s back to try it again.

As Rachel started to return our eyes met and I made some rude tongue gestures. She snickered and smiled with a twinkle. Once seated Kim asked, “So what are we doing?” She took a deep breath and told her, “I want to get it short again” She did not know Kim had seen the photo. Kim ran her fingers back through her hair, “Like with clippers?” She replied, “I had it short last summer… I mean it was really short. I just don’t like looking half shaved.” Kim began blow drying her hair as she asked, “If you like it short I can do it just with the clippers and keep it long as I, can so you can see what it’s like?” Rachel nodded but added, “As long as I can run my hand over it and not mess it up.!” I was a bit disappointed know that attachments went up to 1″ but I also knew many salons only kept #4 and smaller. With the noise of the blower little else was said. I sat about 20 feet away and promised myself not to get involved. I had done that last time and felt guilty when she was plunged into a buzz cut she had not expected. Rachel now knew clipper attachments came in all sizes and she was capable of requesting whatever she wanted.

As Kim continued working with the blower I could see Rachel’s hand moving under the cape. I was sure she had slid it under her dress and was fingering herself. If I could see that from where I sat I am sure Kim was aware of it.

Once the dryer shut off, Kim flicked her fingers through the top before turning to reach for the clippers, “So you want to try it shaved close on the sides and the back?” “Shaved!” Wow, that made me sit up. In spite of the fact Rachel had said “not shaved” Kim had apparently not paid attention, or perhaps watching her hand movements under the cape thought she’d try giving her a thrill. Rachel explained again, “Not really, really close….. Just short… like everything all the same!”  Kim nodded, but seemed to hang onto the buzz cut image in the photo, “I’ll go over everything with just the clippers but keep it long, and if you want I can always go over it again to shorten it up!” That seemed like a good plan so Rachel nodded. But she still had no idea I had shown her the photo, and I knew that was why Kim kept suggesting “shaving it”.

She began adjusting the clippers but my view was blocked and I could not see what she was doing. It was only about then I began to realize no one had said exactly what attachment to use and I began to wonder if “just the clippers” she meant, “no attachment!” The answer came as she switched them on, turned around to untangle the cord and immediately brought them right to her forehead. I only caught a quick glimpse and was in no position to step forward. Besides a split second was all it took before the clippers had a path right down the centre of her head. All I could see was her dark hair sliding down over her shoulders in thick globs. Rachel’s gaze was fixed on the mirror ahead of her. She was motionless, frozen, as she stared straight ahead. It wasn’t until the third sweep that I could see her scalp was showing. My heart pounded! This was buzzed close… really close! As Rachel sat in unspoken terror I began to feel that once again this may have been my fault. I never should have shown the photo. She didn’t move. With no chance of stopping the destruction she sat there holding her breath, expressionless until the clippers shut off. Time had stopped, but suddenly it was done. Her hair was gone!

Kim ran her hands back and forth over her head whisking away stray hairs. She smiled. Rachel did not move and just stared. “How’s that? That’s as long as I could get it without using attachments. You want me to shorten it up some more?” From where I sat it looked like she had used #0. Shortening it up was out of the question. Rachel took a deep breath. It was the first movement I had detected since the clipper began. “No!”

Kim used the blower back and forth over her scalp and around her neck to blow away the clipped ends, then ran her hand over her head one last time before undoing the cape and commenting, “Wow! That feels nice! Congratulations! You’re a skinhead!” As she got up from the chair I could see her dress was wet through at the back. I handed her, her coat to cover it. I paid and we stepped out into the cold air. We said nothing. Rachel reached up and touched the top of her head. The light snow was melting as it hit her scalp and the cold wind was circling up under her coat and dress. She collapsed into the passenger seat before pulling down the visor and looking into the small mirror mounted there. She ran one finger up the back of her head, then with her palm pressed the melted snow from the top. She took a deep breath and gave me a sick
ening look of desperation, there was no smile. “I wish I had a hat!”

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