A couple summers ago my wife and I were on vacation and my wife was going to get her hair trimmed up before we went out for the evening. I told her I would go with her because I had nothing better to do (actually I love watching in a salon hoping for someone (especially my wife) gets a short haircut). When we got there, a very modern looking salon, we walked up to the receptionist and my wife explained she had an appointment and so forth. As my wife finished talking, the receptionist looked at me and asked “and you?”
I just stood there, “Oh I’m just with her.”
My wife looked at me and said, “Sure why not. Can you fit him in?” My hair was longer than usual, well over my ears and my bangs were actually down into my eyes. Work kept me from getting it cut as needed. It was really about 2 months since my last trim.
“Oh yeah, Cindy’s got an opening now. You both can get done at the same time. No, waiting around.”
With that, we both went back to the styling area. My wife way in the back, where I couldn’t see her (very disappointing), and me closer to the front. My stylist, Cindy, (very cute, very tall and very young) came over and turned me to the mirror and asked the usual question. “What are we going to do today?”
I told her I haven’t had a haircut for quite a while and needed it shaped up. She asked how long has it been and I answered 6 weeks-2 months. She gave me this OMG big smile and commented on how we are having such a ‘HOT’ summer this year it may not be a bad idea to cut it a little shorter.
“Maybe a little, but I usually where it a little longer. I’m a professional and I’ve got to look the part at work.”
“No, no, nothing like that. Just a little shorter to keep you comfortable in this heat”.
She had this big grin and I thought ‘au-oh’ and immediately started back peddling telling her, “No, nothing too short or crazy. No big change or anything. I’ve got a cowlick right here (showing her my cowlick on the right side of my hairline at my forehead). If it’s too short it will stand straight up and look goofy “¦ and I’ve got to look professional”¦ “¦ I don’t want any clippers or anything like that.”
“Oh no nothing like that. I wouldn’t use clippers on you. That would be way too short. Nothing like that.”
She then took my hand and led me to the shampoo station. There, she proceeded to give me one of the most sensual shampoo’s I’ve ever had. It lasted forever and I still wish it would have lasted longer, so relaxing.
We returned to the chair and she combed by hair out.
“Now, what side did you wanted it parted on?” she innocently asked.
“Right”. I said as she turned me facing the mirror.
“Oh that’s right, the cowlick”.
That being said she quickly picked up her scissors and took a section right at the top of my crown. The hair was at least 5-6 inches long (I told you it’s been a while since my last cut). I was watching intently as I do have a hair fetish and this stylist is gorgeous. She held the hair between her fingers exposing an inch or so through her fingers. Then she looked at me through the mirror and SNICK. She cut my hair under her fingers. Well under her fingers and tossed the cut hair on my cape. Four inches of hair fell down my cape. The crown section of hair she had was standing up. It was maybe an inch at best.
She smiled in the mirror and firmly pushed my head down. Immediately, I could feel her comb lifting my nape hair and hear the SCHNICK of the scissor cutting it. She continued and continued all the way up to the crown. After what seemed like an hour I could feel the comb effortlessly gliding up the back of my scalp. Over and over again the comb gliding up the contour of my head and in unison with the SCHNICK of the scissor.
“No clippers here” (this is true, she said this!!!) she chuckled as she repeated the cut over and over again.
I was in shock – one, but also in heaven. She was in control and doing whatever. I wanted her to stop, but at the same time I wanted her to continue.
She made sure my head was down while she continued cutting. She must of went over it 15 times. It seemed like forever before she gently lifted my head again. I really looked the same from the front, but I knew she cut a lot of hair from somewhere.
She immediately turned me to an angle facing away from the mirror. She then proceeded to place the comb under my hair above my ear and cut scissor over comb there. Up the side of my head over and over, just as she had done in the back. As she turned me so she could cut the other side, I swear I saw skin on the side she just finished.
I damn near came in my pants. I’ve never been so confused by my emotions before. I hated it, yet I loved it. I think I loved it a lot more than I hated it.
She finished the other side in no time and turned me toward the mirror. I said nothing. My eyes looking in the mirror said everything I had to say.
“Doesn’t it look good? It will be nice for the summer” she said giving me that big grin through the mirror. That being said. She picked up that short crown piece as a guide and started cutting the top section of hair. She was meticulous with her style. Comb a section, flip the comb, cut the hair. Comb another section, flip the comb, cut the hair. Like a machine. This time she was cutting the hair above her fingers, but her fingers were virtually touching my head. As she cut sections, she, I think purposely, tossed the hair to the front of my cape.
Finally to my bangs. She combed what remained of my front hair down and into my eyes. I felt her place the scissors high on my forehead and SCHNICK a curtain of hair falls in front of me. I can see through my one eye that these are high, really high. SCHNICK, SCHNICK, SCHNICK. Done.
“Oh one more thing,” she says leaning over me to pick up her comb. “There’s two ways to beat a cowlick, one leave it long so it bends the other is to make it a part of the cut. She then proceeds to cut scissor over comb my side again up through my cowlick. She makes a couple more passes to blend it with any remaining hair.
Done now I see what’s left of my cowlick is standing straight up, maybe Â½ inch in length.
“That will make a nice natural part.” She says pulling it up.
She finishes by taking her “˜peanut’ clipper and cleaning up my nape and sides.
I stare in the mirror as she gels my hair and finger styles it. She parts it right on the “˜standing straight up’ cowlick, but it’s really not much of a part because my hair is so short. She finally holds up a hand mirror and turns the chair so I can see my cut from all angles.
She doesn’t say a word, just turns the chair very slowly letting me take it in. My eyes must be like saucers as I see my nape tapered from 0 gradually up to the 1 inch at the crown. My sides are the same tapered up from virtually nothing. I see skin, lots of skin. The top of my hair just long enough to have hint of a bend and my bangs are well up on my forehead.
“This will be great for the summer, it should help you keep cool” she says.
I look in the mirror and smile and wonder how I’m ever going to get out of this chair with such a hard on. Not to mention how I’m going to explain this at work. I’m buzzed. It looks hideous on me. Stupid! It really makes me look like a goof. Yet, it was the best haircut experience of my life and hope that someday I will have another.
As I entered the reception area, my wife was waiting for me. Her hair looked nice but nothing really different.
“Wow, now that’s what I call summer haircut” she said rubbing the back of my nape.
Cindy just smiled and I made sure she got a nice tip.
To this day, it was the best vacation of my life. I remember that haircut like it was yesterday. It took almost the rest of the year to grow out to something normal. But, it was worth it. It was something I’ve only dreamed of and as mentioned before, I hope I have the same experience again someday.