The Promising Job Interview … With An Unexpected Twist

As I sat across from Emma Pierce in my job interview at Potts Wilberforce Consultancy, I felt the sweat accumulating on my forehead. This firm had a reputation steeped in tradition, and just receiving the invitation to the interview felt like an achievement, given my age.

‘Tina, you’ve really impressed me today,’ Emma remarked, her tone warm. She sat confidently in her tailored skirt suit, the crisp blouse with a large bow at the neck drawing attention to her meticulous style. Her severe bobbed hair framed her sharp features and keen gaze, making her presence undeniably commanding.

‘Thank you, Emma. It is wonderful to hear that,’ I responded, feeling a mixture of relief and apprehension.

‘From now on, I would prefer if you addressed me as ‘Ma’am,’ is that clear?’ Emma’s tone shifted to one of authority.

‘Oh, of course … Ma’am,’ I said, trying to adjust to her request.

Her expression softened into a faint smile as if she appreciated my willingness to comply. ‘Great. Now, Tina, I am leaning toward offering you this position, but there is a slight complication.’

‘What is it? I am ready to tackle any concerns,’ I replied eagerly, meeting her gaze firmly.

‘There is a specific standard we uphold here. Our clientele is quite distinguished and usually leans towards a more traditional aesthetic,’ she explained.

‘Okay …’ I elongated the word, unsure of what she was implying. ‘How does that relate to me?’

‘Our clients expect to engage with businesswomen who are groomed traditionally and present themselves professionally,’ she said, her eyes flicking to my exceedingly long mass of hair that I had secured into a large bun.

‘Let your hair down,’ Emma instructed casually.

It felt like an odd request for a business environment, but I complied hesitantly. My hair tumbled down, creating a heavy curtain that obscured my outfit. I could not help but feel exposed and awkward.

‘Just as I suspected,’ Emma said with a dismissive wave of her hand as if was swatting away my offending hair.

‘Fortunately, there’s an establishment salon in the arcade downstairs that caters to our employees,’ she continued. ‘We can head there now to modify your appearance look to meet our requirements. Once we finish, we can return, sign the paperwork, and the job will be yours.’

I paused, anxiety gripping me. My mother, who had always trimmed my long hair, lived far away so I could not call on her for assistance. I dreaded what might occur at this company approved establishment, especially with Emma’s sharp bob in my mind. Yet, with work hard to come by the allure of the job was too strong, and I nodded reluctantly.

‘Should I put my hair back into a bun, Ma’am?’ I asked, trying to regain a semblance of control.

‘There’s no need for that,’ Emma chuckled, which only added to my unease.

Emma, clearly in high spirits, led me out of the office, down the elevator, and into the arcade. The imposing storefront of Jo’s Barbershop confronted me. It had the feel of a male environment from decades earlier, rather than a contemporary woman’s salon.

Joanne, the barber, glanced up as she polished her chair, a plump woman in her fifties with steel grey hair permed into tight curls that spoke of traditional style.

‘Ah, Miss Pierce, what sort of creature do we have hiding under all that hair?’ Joanne joked warmly.

‘Hello, Joanne,’ Emma replied with a light laugh. ‘Under here is Tina, a potential employee for the firm, but she’s lacking the professional appearance we expect.’

Joanne’s brows raised as she sized me up. ‘She is hardly making an appearance at all beneath all that hair. I miss the days when women made it a point to be impeccably groomed. It feels like discipline has vanished in this younger generation.’

‘I couldn’t agree more, Joanne,’ Emma said, even though she was not exactly ancient herself. ‘Could you bring her into line?’

‘Oh, absolutely, Emma,’ Joanne said, gesturing toward the imposing leather barber chair. ‘Come you, take a seat … but careful not to trip on all that hair,’ she taunted.

Embarrassed by their mocking laughter, I stood paralysed for a moment, but the impatience in Joanne’s tone coaxed me forward. ‘You! In the chair. Now!’ she ordered.

In a daze, I stumbled to the chair and a large white cape enveloped me.

‘What are we doing today?’ Joanne asked.

Before I could gather my thoughts and suggest a conservative cut, Emma interjected, ‘She’ll have the standard employee cut, please.’

Joanne’s eyes lit up as she reached for an intimidating pair of bright red clippers hung on the wall. The guard slid off, and she stepped toward me, brandishing the exposed blades.

Before I could comprehend the gravity of the moment, she plunged into the left side of my hair, and my locks tumbled down, pooling onto the cape and my lap. As chunks of my hair disappeared, panic rose, as she was taking my sides down nearly to the skin. I felt the clippers zooming over the back of my head, scraping away everything in their path.

Setting the clippers aside, Joanne grabbed a comb and scissors, precisely trimming the perimeter of the top section of my hair to an inch above my ears. What emerged was an immaculate bowl-shape, with a short fringe that only covered half my forehead.

If that was not enough, she lathered shaving foam along the sides and back of my head. Meticulously shaving away any leftover stubble, what remained was a pristine bowlcut sitting above smooth white skin that gleamed under the lights.

‘Does this cut meet your standards, Miss Pierce?’ Joanne asked as she turned the chair to face Emma, a triumphant smile on her face.

‘Oh look, as I hoped, there is a well-groomed woman who had been hiding under all that hair!’ Miss Pierce exclaimed, her voice tainted with glee as she ran her fingers up the back of my head, the coldness sending an unexpected shiver of something akin to pleasure down my spine. ‘So smooth,’ she murmured provocatively.

I was unsure whether her actions were professional. I wondered if I should complain. ‘Yes, very smooth …’ I purred, unable to help myself.

‘It suits you very well,’ Miss Pierce whispered close to my ear, her breath swirling in a mix of confidence and intrigue. There was an unexpected heat in the air, her authoritative presence burning hotly against my reverberating uncertainty.

‘You have outdone yourself, Joanne. This is precisely the type of smart professional woman we need in the firm,’ Emma Pierce remarked.

I got up and felt my legs shaking under me, the shock of my fresh look staring back at me in the mirror just now setting in.

Miss Pierce whispered in my ear, ‘The job is yours, young lady. We can head back to my office, complete the paperwork … and then we can talk some more …’

I felt a chill inside me. Miss Pierce’s authoritative aura seemed even more intimidating but increasingly attractive.

‘Of course, Ma’am, I’d like that,’ I managed to respond, though there was a stark, new awareness crawling through me.

Miss Pierce responded with a coy smile and ran her fingers along the bare skin over my left ear igniting a thrill that settled deep in my core.

‘Let’s go, Tina,’ she said, ‘your journey with us is only just beginning.’

As I followed her out into the world, I felt a profound shift within myself. This job meant more than just employment. It was the first step into a realm of new opportunities and hidden pleasures. And, having divested myself of the weight of my overwhelming hair, perhaps a new identity would blossom from the lightness my fresh new haircut.

I smiled at Joanne, looked around my strange surroundings, and greatly looked forward to the intimidating barber maintaining my professional appearance in the future to meet the exacting requirements of the formidable Emma Pierce.

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