KB75
It had been a long day—no, it had been a long WEEK! This had only been Nicole’s third year at her company in her back-office role, but after a recent promotion, she now found herself getting overwhelmed with the ever-increasing demands. From having to prepare endless reports for managers that never seemed to want anything “when able”, to getting up extra early for work almost every day, to each and every late afternoon full of errands, everything seemed to pile up on top of the other thing, and Nicole was now running on the fumes. Although thankfully it was Friday, she had a long night and next day ahead of her, getting her files and documents prepped for next week and getting some notes done for a big presentation, it would take lots time, but if she worked really hard, she could possibly enjoy her Sunday! A little treat was in order after this week, and so Nicole decided to treat herself to a new Burberry scarf to complete her new favorite autumnal ensemble, and a nice, too-expensive coffee—something to soothe the weariness of the day, even just a little bit. Luckily, Nicole’s favorite boutique was right next to her certain favorite coffee chain, so she could still be home within an hour.
She had been eyeing the scarf for almost two weeks each walk home, but had stopped herself, letting the price tag scare her off. However, after the week she had, she justified the purchase to herself as a “mental health” expense. The saleswoman was very complimentary of Nicole’s entire outfit, and said the scarf was the perfect accessory. Nicole beamed. In truth, she did quite like her Fall standard outfit: a lined turtleneck sweater, long sleeved today in a dark orange color, a dark brown high-waisted midi skirt that reached just below her knees, opaque tights, and sensible, light brown flats paired with a matching light brown belt. With her long, wavy medium auburn brown hair, although a bit monochromatic, Nicole often received compliments on this outfit. “Do you have a date tonight?” asked the saleswoman as she rang Nicole up. Nicole sighed “No, I wish, but I’ve got a lot of work to do.” The woman gave her a disappointed look, “Aw, too bad. You look amazing! Well, enjoy the rest of your day.” Nicole nodded, a bit miffed that she wasn’t going on a date, but the thought quickly left her mind as she walked into the coffee shop.
Twenty minutes and a tall, caramel latte later, Nicole stepped outside, her new scarf wrapped around her neck, and a sense of satisfaction spread across her face. Of course the day was about to get worse.
As Fate would have it, a mischievous wind worked its way through the autumn afternoon, catching the edge of Nicole’s loosely wrapped scarf, whisking it off of her in an instant. She watched, frozen for a split second, as it tumbled away down the sidewalk, fluttering and twirling like a leaf in the breeze. Realizing that the $80 scarf she had just purchased was getting away, a panicked Nicole began sprinting after it, her boots hitting the pavement harshly and clumsily as she tried to balance her overfilled bag, purse, and drink.
Nicole was within a few feet of the scarf when someone shouted “Hey, look out!”, but as she reached out, a misstep sent her flying forward. Time seemed to slow as Nicole watched the lid on her drink open and start to spill as she fell into a freshly drying bit of cement sidewalk. She landed knees first, scraping them and tearing her tights open before the rest of her tumbled onto the ground. The drink went all over her sweater, and though she kept her face out of it as she hit the ground, her hair landed squarely into the wet cement. The world went blurry with embarrassment and pain. As Nicole painfully lifted her head, she saw through wet, hot tears that her new scarf landed directly over a storm drain, where, with a final gust of malicious wind, it disappeared forever.
Bruised, stinging, her knees bleeding, her pride and sweater ruined, she carefully turned herself over to her side and started to sob as she awkwardly crawled across the sidewalk and sat against the nearest building. Her workbag had almost its entire contents of folders, papers, and binders spilled out, and her purse lay off to the side. The workman, who had just poured the wet cement and had called out to her, rushed over to help her up and gather her things, but he was unexpectedly stopped by the proprietor of the shop Nicole was now gently weeping by.
Wiping the warm tears streaming from her eyes, Nicole was greeted by a sharp, clear woman’s voice saying “Well, now, what do we have here?” Nicole looked up, blinking through the blur of her tears to see a tall, lean woman dressed in a neatly pressed white oxford shirt extending her hand. “Up you go, missy,” said the lady, helping Nicole to her feet. Nicole sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve in a most undignified way. She blinked, getting a good look at her good Samaritan. The woman standing before her was much taller than her, almost six feet, and though she was clearly in her mid-60s, a certain energy and spryness was instantly palpable about her, and it wasn’t just because of her hot pink gym shoes she wore with her black slacks.
Behind a pair of black and bright pink cat-eye glasses, she had a kind, but also hardened expression, like someone who had been tested by life, but hadn’t slipped into bitterness. However, it was her hair that was her most striking feature. She sported an almost comically short bowlcut, perfectly shaped with a crisp, blunt weight line, and a bold, high undercut that reached all the way up to her temples. The silver and grey shades of her hair contrasted sharply with the shaved skin below the bowl. Nicole was amazed at how this style gave her a look that was both woefully outdated, yet strangely chic. Her hair rested high above her ears and brows, Nicole thought it was almost like a helmet, or perhaps more accurately, like a mushroom cap.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” asked the lady, taking out a clean hankie and offering it to her. Nicole took a shaky breath, “Kuh-ku-Nicole. I’m suh-sorry for ruining your s-s-sidewalk.” The woman waved her hand and made a dismissive noise. “Oh, come now, no need to apologize, Nicole. I’m Sally. How about you come inside, hmm?” Nicole looked up, not even sure what sort of store she’d fallen in front of. Behind Sally hung a white sign that read Sally’s Barbershop – The Place for Sensible Women’s Hairdos. Though Nicole had passed this shop hundreds of times by now, she’d never given it a second thought.
Sally carried in Nicole’s purse and roughly shoved the fallen contents workbag while Nicole, her arms tightly wrapped about herself, shuffled in behind her. Sally surreptitiously turned her ‘Open’ sign to ‘Closed’, and looked at the door behind them. The outside world had clearly caused Nicole enough pain today, and Sally was determined to keep it out, even if just for a little while. Once she had set Nicole’s things down, Sally raised an eyebrow as she took in the sight of her guest, hair caked with cement, sweater stained with coffee and grit, knees gently bleeding through ripped tights. “Oh, sweetheart, you’ve really had quite the tumble, haven’t you?” she asked in a sympathetic tone that hinted at slight amusement.
Nicole whimpered “I… I’ve just had the worst day!” Sally’s expression softened a bit further, and she gave Nicole a little pat on the back. Sally motioned to the large, worn white leather upholstered barber’s chair near the middle of the room, saying “Why don’t you take a seat then, hmm, Nicole? That’s the most comfortable chair in the house. Let’s see if I can’t get you cleaned a bit up, hmm?” She led Nicole through the barbershop, helping her gently into the waiting chair. Nicole made a sharp intake of air as she painfully sat and leaned back into the surprisingly comfortable chair. She really was a mess, but Sally didn’t seem to mind as she poured Nicole a cup of black, ‘real’ coffee. “Sorry, this is the strongest drink I make for customers,” said Sally, passing a shivering Nicole the drink. Nicole gave the lighthearted remark a weak smile as she looked around her. The shop had a cozy, no-nonsense feel to it—plain, clean, with everything in its place. The tiled black and white floor was chipped in a few places, the paint was faded and scratched in some areas, and the waiting chair with ‘Good Housekeeping” magazines were all ancient, but there was a certain welcoming sincerity Nicole felt as she took it in.
A few magazine cut-outs of women with various short styles, some curly, most not, were magnetized to the single, large mirror that dominated the wall opposite her chair. It was with some embarrassment that Nicole gazed upon her frazzled appearance. Once Nicole had caught sight of a shampoo station, supply shelf, and small table on which rested the old coffee maker, she had appraised the shop in full with just a few glances.
“You’ll catch a chill in that soaked sweater,” Sally clucked. Nicole’s cheeks reddened, “Erm, yes, you don’t suppose-?” But she needn’t have finished her words. Sally pulled out a crisp white oxford from a drawer in the back. It looked just like the one she wore, meaning plain, practical, but freshly laundered and smelling faintly of soap. She handed it to Nicole with a little smile. “Go on, slip into while I pull the blinds.” Nicole wasn’t sure about undressing in front of a stranger, but Sally pointedly looked away as she busied herself with the blinds. Nicole removed the sweater, dragging it through her mangled hair as she did so. She buttoned up the shirt over her camisole as quickly as she could. Though her bust filled it out nicely, the sleeves were quite long, almost covering her hands completely. However, it was warm and dry, which was more than she could say of her sweater.
As Sally walked towards her, fetching the first-aid kit, Nicole couldn’t help but stare at the perfectly shaped hairstyle swish back and forth with each step. “Erm, thank you, Sally. Ah, don’t take this the wrong way, but how do you… keep it so perfect? Your hair I mean? Do you cut it yourself?” Nicole felt a little stupid as soon as she asked. Sally chuckled, “Oh, this old style?” She patted the stiff, silver domed bowlcut proudly. “Well, you are in ‘Sally’s Barbershop’, dear, so I maintain it myself with a steady hand and lots of trims. It’s a little quirky, isn’t it? Been wearing it like this for years, hardly even think about it anymore. I like to think the bowlcut suits me.”
Nicole blushed, “Ah, yes, it does. Sorry, dumb question.” Sally waved her hand again. She pulled out the small bottle of rubbing alcohol from the kit along with a few cotton swabs. “Don’t be silly. You’re still recovering from that spill. Now, I’m going to check those scrapes, alright?” Nicole nodded, preparing herself for some discomfort.
Sally pulled over a small footstool, sitting with a slight grunt before leaning into Nicole’s legs. She rolled her sleeves up and began to gently dab a cotton ball soaked in antiseptic on her scraped knees. The little sting made her wince, but Sally’s focused expression, her quiet, careful manner, kept Nicole grounded, comforted that someone so collected was helping her. As Nicole looked down at her legs, Sally’s grey bowlcut danced in front of her, and was so close she could see every detail—the sharp, even line where the soft, round curve of the cut met the bare skin of her undercut.
Wincing again, Nicole blurted out “You really know how to cut hair, don’t you? Erm,” Nicole bit her lip before adding “I meant, your cut, what did you call it, a bowlcut? —It’s just so… precise, and, erm, striking. How do you keep those sides so smooth?” Sally chuckled again softly, glancing up at you over the rims of her pink glasses. “Well, it’s all in the wrist, darling. I use my trusty clippers, a razor, and a steady hand. That’s the only way in which one CAN shave hair, my dear.” Nicole blushed, as she could tell Sally was teasing her slightly. However, Sally could in turn tell Nicole might have just been trying to distract herself from the pain, so she added, a bit more softly this time “I give myself a little trim every few days, usually in the morning to keep it in shape. Same thing with shaving. Can’t have any stray hairs messing up the line, now, can I?”
Nicole couldn’t help but lean forward a bit, peering closer at the almost surreal smoothness of her scalp where the hair had been simply shaved away, like her legs or arms. “So, you shave all the way up to… here?” Nicole traced a line with your finger, just above her temples, marveling at how much of Sally’s head was bare. “That’s… that’s a lot of head to shave. Doesn’t it feel… cold?” Sally let out a hearty laugh, the sound filling the small barbershop. “Oh, sometimes, sweetie! But you get used to it, and it’s all part of the neat and tidy look I like so much about it. Plus, when you’re busy trimming everyone else’s hair all day, you get pretty warm, so it’s nice to keep your own low-maintenance, cool hairstyle.”
Nicole nodded, though her mind kept turning over the idea. Where were all these questions coming from? Why was she going on and on, pestering this lady with so many inane questions? However, Nicole was mesmerized by this strangely alluring look! Sally’s scalp looked so smooth, almost shiny in the soft glow of the shop’s lights. It was hard not to be a little fascinated! “Does it itch when it grows back? I mean, do you have to shave it every day?” Sally kept dabbing at Nicole’s knees, her touch gentle as she cleaned up the scrapes, but Nicole also noticed a little glimmer in the barber’s eye. “You’re just FULL of questions, aren’t you, Nicole?” she teased, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Yes, it can get a bit prickly if I leave it too long. That’s why I like to keep it smooth. But enough about me, dear. How about I ask YOU a question? What were you doing running through the streets like that? Your outfit is, was, quite adorable, but not exactly sporty.”
Nicole’s cheeks re-flushed from embarrassment. “Oh, ah, I was chasing this brand new scarf I just bought. I didn’t see the caution sign, and, well, you know the rest. That scarf was $80! I’m only an assistant, so that’s not, erm, you know, that’s a good amount of money for me.” Sally stood up, pushing the stool back against the wall with her shoe and laughed, “Honey, that’s a good amount of money for me, too! My little sister’s a secretary, and she thanks the Lord every day that she was able to marry a lawyer.” Nicole smiled, then frowned, “The worst part is, it blew down the sewer!” Sally gave a shocked sound, “Really?! Oh, Nicole, that’s awful! So, not to be rude honey, but you ruined your hair for nothing?”
Nicole had been so preoccupied with her scraped knees and soiled sweater she hadn’t even noticed her hair that closely. It now had caked, rapidly hardening cement streaked throughout the lower half, and bits of leaves and dirt sprinkled throughout. “Yeah, er, guess not. Oh my gosh, look at my face, too! I look a wreck!” Sally gave another short chuckle. “Yes, that’s part of why I stopped wearing mascara myself. Here, allow me.” The barber retrieved a rolled-up washcloth from the same cupboard where she had kept her spare shirt, ran it under some warm water, and handed it to Nicole. Gratefully, Nicole rubbed her face free from her tear-streaked makeup, and while she looked a little more tired and plain, she felt much better.
When her vision cleared, Sally was holding a white and blue striped barber’s cape. Confused, Nicole asked “What’s that for?” Sally smiled, taking the washcloth and tossing it into the sink, “What do you think it’s for? Honey, you didn’t think I was going to leave your hair in this state, did you? You’re in a barbershop for goodness’ sakes!” Nicole blinked rapidly, not sure what to feel. However, she tilted her head up and allowed Sally to tightly snap the cape around her neck. Strangely, she also tore off a piece of barber’s tape, securing that around her neck, too.
Picking up a brush, Sally said “Let’s have a look at your hair, hmm?” Nicole watched her reflection, her attention constantly alternating between her own matted, frayed locks, and Sally’s bouncing, perfectly shaped, absurd hairstyle. Sally tried to brush all of Nicole’s back, but constantly found herself tugging on the cement. After a few minutes, Sally said with a sigh “I’ll be honest with you, sweetie,” she began, her voice gentle but carrying a matter-of-fact edge only hinted at before, “It’s not looking too good. That cement’s worked its way into the strands pretty deep, and I’m not sure how much I can save. Might have to take a good bit off just to get you cleaned up, Nicole.”
Nicole felt her stomach drop while she glanced at her reflection in the mirror, still showing her long hair hanging in tangled disarray. The idea of losing so much of it made her breath hitch sharply, but once again, her attention was caught by the sight of Sally’s perfectly sculpted bowlcut. It was so confident, so unique, so awful, yet oddly pretty. A shiver of something Nicole couldn’t quite name ran through her.
She swallowed, her throat feeling very dry, “Aha, how… how short are we talking, Sally?” she asked, voice barely more than a whisper. Sally’s eyes flicked down to Nicole’s through the mirror. She tilted her head, a knowing smile playing at her lips as she let the question linger in the air before answering Nicole.
“Well, honey, I’m afraid there’s no way around it. Like I said, I’m going to have to take off a good amount of length,” she said, drawing the words out as she gently fingered the gummy knots matted into Nicole’s long waves. Her fingers skillfully glided over and through Nicole’s hair, well, not glided so much as brushed as best she could. Nicole felt her nerves rise and Sally could also sense the tension in her newest customer as she continued to assess the tangled mess. “Not sure we’ll be able to save much. It’s gotten in deep, and I wouldn’t want to tug too much and hurt that pretty scalp of yours. Plus, cement doesn’t come out with peanut butter like chewing gum. Once it’s in there, Nicole, it’s in there.”
Sensing an opportunity, Sally changed her tone to a lighter, more innocent voice. “Well, that’s part of the risk of having long, long hair, my dear.” She shifted her stance, letting the light catch the smooth, shaved underside of her own style, the short, silver mushroom cap above perfectly defined. “You know, after all your questions, I was just thinking how much I’ve come to love this quirky little cut of mine. It’s certainly got character, don’t you think?” she mused, swishing her bowlcut playfully from side to side, the stiff line staying perfectly in place even as the shorn sides gleamed under the lights. She saw with secret pleasure as Nicole’s eyes followed each movement. “Oh, it does take some upkeep—as I mentioned, trims pretty often, and a good razor shave to keep the undercut smooth—but it’s worth it. It’s just so… practical.”
Nicole swallowed hard, her eyes still drawn to the sharply defined edge of Sally’s hair, that contrast between the starkly smooth skin and the velvety softness of the bowl above resting like a shelf high above her ears. Her thoughts spun wildly between fascination and apprehension, and Nicole tried to focus one last, last hope. “Do you think, erm, that…maybe if we tried washing it first, that could help? Maybe get the stuff out without, ah, without having to cut it all off?”
Sally’s smile softened, and she gave a little nod. Even though, she knew she was just placating her, she replied “Oh, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to give it a try, if it’ll give you some peace of mind, darling. Come on, let’s get you over to the sink.”
She led her over to the wash station, guiding Nicole to lean back into the basin, where she couldn’t help but sigh as the warm water flowed over her scalp. The tension of the day seemed to melt away, especially as Sally’s fingers began to work peppermint-scented shampoo through Nicole’s tangled hair, massaging her scalp in slow, steady circles. Despite her mounting apprehension at losing any length of hair, Nicole closed her eyes and let herself enjoy the soothing sensation.
However, even as she tried to relax, she opened her eyes after a moment, her vision now nothing but ceiling and the top of Sally’s bowlcut. Nicole’s curiosity kept bubbling up, and she just couldn’t help herself. “Does it take you a long time to style your hair every morning, Sally?” Nicole asked, peeking up at her from the corner of your eye as she continued working the lather into her hair. “I mean, it’s so… sculpted. Does it stay like that on its own?”
Sally chuckled softly, her hands never pausing their rhythmic movement. “More questions about my hair? I’m just teasing. It’s not too bad once you get used to it in terms of styling. I give it a quick blow-dry, use a round brush for a bit of shaping, then I use a little product to keep the shape, and that’s it. Plus, a good undercut makes it a lot easier to maintain—keeps the edges neat without much fuss.” She tilted her head, her expression turning a little playful. “But I do have to keep up with that razor shave, or else it starts to get a little fuzzy. And I do like my undercut smooth! Really, I used to have long, long hair like yours, missy, but once I went short, well, I never looked back.”
Nicole nodded absentmindedly, feeling the gentle pull of Sally’s fingers as she worked through the soap and then rinsed the suds away. Her hair was so different, so precise, and Nicole couldn’t stop her mind from drifting back to what it would be like to feel the clippers running over her own scalp, to have that clean, crisp edge like Sally’s. She shivered slightly at the thought, though whether it was nerves or something else, Nicole couldn’t quite tell!
When Sally finally finished shampooing her hair, she wrapped Nicole’s hair in a warm towel and helped her back to the barber chair. But as she peeled the towel away, the gummy cement patches still clung stubbornly together throughout Nicole’s tangled strands. Sally again raised an eyebrow skeptically, giving Nicole a knowing look as she picked at a particularly sticky piece. “Well honey, I’m afraid the wash didn’t do much for most of these stubborn spots. It’s REALLY stuck in there. I’d have to cut it out, and by the looks of it, it’s going to mean going quite a bit shorter.” She tilted her head, her expression softening as she watched Nicole wrestle with the reality of the situation. “But I promise you, I’ll make it look good, Nicole. You might even surprise yourself with how gorgeous you’ll look with short hair.”
Nicole took a deep breath, feeling a little tremor of resignation settle into her chest. “Okay… okay, I, erm, I get it. You’ll… you’ll have to cut it short, Sally” she admitted reluctantly, her voice barely audible. Nicole then added timidly “Just… not too short, right?”
Sally’s smile turned a touch mischievous, responding, “Honey, I can’t promise that! I mean, look for yourself, I mean, the cement is practically to your scalp along your entire nape.” Nicole’s face fell as she watched Sally reach for her comb and clips, then beginning to section her hair. But as she worked, Nicole noticed with growing realization the way in which Sally separated each piece and parting it, securing hair on top with shiny black clips—not like she was preparing for a bob, as Nicole had quietly hoped, but something different, something higher and rounder. She clipped up most of the top, leaving the sides and back free below the ends of her temples, and Nicole’s heart skipped a beat as the reality of what Sally was doing began to sink in.
“Wait… what are you doing?” Nicole asked in a high-pitched, trembling voice. Sally just gave Nicole a gentle pat on the shoulder, her smile widening ever so slightly. “Oh, don’t you worry, sweetheart. I’m going to take good care of you, just like I said. You’re going to LOVE what I’ll begiving you, Nicole. After all, you’ve been so curious about my little bowlcut, haven’t you? What better way to satisfy all those questions than by getting one yourself?” She gave a playful wink, picking up her clippers from the countertop and holding them up with a flourish.
Nicole’s breath caught in her throat and her fingers curled into the arms of the chair as she watched the clippers hum to life, the buzzing sound filling the little barbershop with a menacing hum. Another shiver of anticipation raced down her spine, mingling with a hint of dread, as Sally repositioned herself behind Nicole, her warm hand resting lightly on her shoulder.
“Now, just sit straight for me, and watch how this goes, hmm?” Sally murmured, her voice carrying that distinct blend of warmth and command that made Nicole feel like she couldn’t possibly argue with the barber. “I’ve got a feeling this is exactly what you need, and I also think you’ve wanted this for some time, haven’t you? To go shorter than you’ve dared before.” Nicole eyed Sally with a shocked expression that confirmed the older woman’s suspicion. Sally giggled, “You’re hardly the first one to sit in my chair with long hair, dear. It’s rare, sure, but nothing I’ve not seen before. Just enjoy the show, sweetheart, okay?” Nicole nodded, her eyes now wide with mingled fear and fascination at the clippers being lowered into her mane.
Sally took a determined breath, her hands steady as she drove the whirring clippers into all of Nicole’s hair parted just below the temple. “Let’s start with the bulk, hmm? Don’t worry, we’re just making it a bit more manageable to start.” Nicole gasped as she felt the first pass dig directly into her nape, but Sally didn’t let up for a single second, save for when she folded down Nicole’s ears to carve away all the loose hair. She barely could register the sensations of the humming instrument stripping away her hair, Sally was working so fast! Each pass left behind a soft, even stubble, the pale skin of Nicole’s scalp peeking through quite obviously. She worked with efficient precision, tapering the sides into the nape until the whole lower two thirds of Nicole’s head was reduced to a uniform fuzz. Given how practiced Sally was at her craft, this shaving took less than three minutes for Nicole to be left with nothing but a dark stubble all along her sides and nape.
Clumps of hair slid down the cape, gathering in Nicole’s lap and on the floor, creating a small, sad pile of what had once been long, flowing locks. Nicole swallowed hard, fighting the lump that had formed in her throat, but there was something undeniably exhilarating about this sudden makeover. With each pass of the clippers, Nicole’s terror gradually gave way to fascination!
Sally switched the clippers off and said, “Here, feel that, dear.” Tentatively, Nicole lifted a trembling hand from beath her cape, causing inches of hair to cascade down to the floor. She gasped again as she brushed the coarse, sandpaper like texture of her nape and sides. It was electrifying and terrifying! Sally grinned, “Yes, kinda something, right? Just wait until you feel it when it’s smooth, hon.” Nicole wasn’t ready for envisioning that, but she knew it would be a reality soon. Sally picked the clippers up once more, removing the guard, picked them up, rolling the tool between her fingers as if testing the weight, and then turned them on with a low, steady hum. The sound vibrated through the small barbershop, filling the air between you. “Now, just take a deep breath, sugar,” she murmured, adding “This next part is where you REALLY have to remain still.”
Nicole silently nodded, too terrified to do anything else but obey her barber! Sally put her hands on a tiny machine, and a moment later, the distinct scent of menthol filled the air as she pumped a generous amount of shaving cream into a small bowl. Using a small brush, Sally began smoothing the cream over the freshly buzzed sections with a gentle touch. The warm cream seeped into Nicole’s skin, mingling with the cool air, and despite her nerves, couldn’t help but close her eyes, just for a moment, letting out a little sigh at the sensation. Sally’s brush was used to expertly spread the cream evenly over every bit of stubble until Nicole’s temples, nape, and sides were all covered in a soft, frothy coat.
Sally then reached into a drawer, retrieving a gleaming straight-edge razor, its polished blade glinting off the shop’s lights, and gave it a quick flick through the air. She caught Nicole’s wide-eyed gaze in the mirror, her expression softened by a kind of gentle understanding. “Now, this might feel a little strange, but I promise, it’s worth it for not just the finished look, but the sensation too, my dear.”
With a steady hand, she began to shave away every last trace of Nicole’s stubble, the razor gliding over the slick lather with smooth, practiced strokes. Each scrape of the blade left behind a patch of utterly smooth, bare skin, and Nicole could feel the air caressing the newly denuded areas as Sally worked. Sally’s movements were slow, almost hypnotizing to Nicole, who found herself utterly transfixed by the rhythmic glide of the razor, the soft scritch-scritch as she cleared away every trace of hair. It was a bizarre sight, and yet Nicole felt that it was satisfying a secret craving she never even knew she had! Her ears looked even more prominent, but oddly fitting, like an accessory to her visage.
After what felt like both an eternity and an instant, Sally wiped away the last bit of lather with a warm towel, again causing Nicole to release a moan of satisfaction. Sally laughed, “Uh huh, what did I tell you, hon? Go ahead. Touch it!” A bit more confidently, Nicole felt the bare skin of her scalp for the first time, tingling and impossibly smooth. There was something undeniably exhilarating about feeling the air hit her freshly exposed nape. “It’s…is this real?” Nicole stammered. Sally smiled, tracing the smooth skin with her hand, answering “Yes, I had a similar reaction when I experienced that for the first time myself, too. Well, let’s move onto the actual shaping, shall we?” Nicole watched, a little numb, as Sally proceeded to unclip most of the top sections, letting the hair spill down over the shaved sides in a curtain that barely reached Nicole’s cheeks. The last vestiges of her old style were about to be removed!
Nicole didn’t get to enjoy the sight of her rough bob for long, as Saly picked up her pair of shears and got to work. Skillfully, her fingers deftly separated the strands, spreading the hair out into a uniform way, save for the length that would become her bangs, which remained firmly clipped up top. Using a comb, she would deftly lift a section, snip off the ends, then repeat the action in rapid succession. Each snip and swish of her tool had a certain magnified enormity for Nicole, as if losing these last few inches was twice as shocking as when Sally buzzed off almost two feet of length before! Nicole couldn’t quite tear her eyes away from her reflection in the mirror. Sally had a determined, satisfied smile on her face, and as Nicole watched her barber closely, she noted now that the light caught her smoothly shaved sides in an identical way to hers now!
After several minutes of snipping, Sally stepped back, studying her work critically before she nodded to herself. Nicole’s hair was now a roughly uniform, bluntly ended halo of two inches, and though the bowl shape was easily seen, though not anywhere near as perfect as her own. Sally reached for a small, silver bowl—one that she carefully nestled atop Nicole’s head, just like a little helmet. The sight was almost comical, but the determined look in Sally’s eyes told Nicole that she wasn’t joking. “This is just to help me perfect the shape,” she explained with a wink, holding the bowl steady with one hand while she carefully adjusted her shears in her hand. Sally pressed the bowl down, and trimmed the edges to a blunt, uniform perfection. Soon, Nicole could see no hair on her head, as it was all encased in the metal guide. Though a bit humiliating, Nicole couldn’t deny the aroused exhilaration she felt, too!
Sally’s satisfied smile turned a bit sly as she caught your wide-eyed expression in the mirror. “Almost there, missy. Just your bangs, and then you and I will be style sisters!” She removed the bowl, but also maddeningly turned Nicole away from the mirror. Her final part of the transformation would leave her in suspense! Sally used her shears again, carefully trimming the fringe until it rested well above Nicole’s brows, without so much as a hint of softness to balance the stark lines. Nicole gasped as she felt the blades press against the higher areas of her forehead, and with that sense of finality, Nicole finally accepted that her style was now inescapable! “There we go,” she murmured, stepping back to admire her work with a proud smile. “Let’s see what you think.”
Sally swiveled the chair back towards the mirror, and Nicole gazed upon herself. Her hair was now a brunette facsimile of Sally’s, alike in every way! The hair fell in neat, precise lines, forming a cap that sat high above Nicole’s prominent ears, high above her eyebrows raised in shock, just as Sally had intended. The barber checked the shape from every angle, adjusting it with tiny ginger flips until she was satisfied that it matched her own with uncanny precision. “I…my hair… Oh, my… Sally, it’s… it’s so…”
“Striking, isn’t it? Wasn’t that the word you used for me, dear?” she teased gently, running a hand over the smooth curve of Nicole’s new style. “Just like mine, well, aside from the color, obviously. Now, it’s not quite as easy to maintain as you’d think—needs a bit of attention every week to keep those lines sharp. Here, let me show you the products you’ll need.” Sally picked up a can of hairspray, coating Nicole’s short coiffure liberally, adding with a laugh “Obviously, hairspray is still going to be your friend!” She then laid out a small round brush, hairdryer, mousse, and a comb, saying proudly, “Hon, these five things are the extent of the products you’ll need. It’s so easy to shape, but you will really have to stay on top of those trims. Even once a week might be stretching it though with the shave, unless you feel comfortable doing it yourself.”
Nicole shook her head, gasping again as she saw her perfect bowl sway before returning to shape. “Er, no, I…I don’t know about shaving myself! Well, my, erm, my head at least. But, well, I guess I DO pass this place on my way to work…” Sally clapped her hands together, “Oh, well in that case darling, just stop by a bit early every couple mornings or on your way back, except on Fridays, as I close early then, ‘cept for today of course. I’d LOVE to just freshen you up, but…” she scribbled her number on a piece of paper. “Nicole, you can give me a call any time you just need someone to talk to. I think there was an element of fate that brought you here, as corny as that sounds, my dear.”
As Nicole primped the underside of her shelf of hair, she slowly began to smile broadly as she took in her new style, her new face. “I…I think you might be right. And, ah, thank you, Sally! Thank you for cleaning me up, the shirt, the haircut, everything. I just love it, and, well…thank you.” Sally took Nicole’s cape off and helped her out of the chair. In matching hairdos and shirts, their resemblance was almost familial, so it wasn’t much of a stretch for them to warmly embrace before Nicole left the barbershop. Sally insisted the makeover was on the house, though Nicole promised a generous tip when she’d come in for her first trim and shave.
Once she stepped outside, the same, cool, mischievous air that brought on this entire ordeal blew over Nicole. This time, though, she giggled with delight as it kissed her shaved skin for the first time. Maybe this week hadn’t been so bad after all!
