Meeting Dana

Story Categories:

Story Tags:

Views: 954 | Likes: +14

Meeting Dana

Sometimes strange ways get you in exactly the place where you belong.

The day I cancelled an appointment with a therapist that is also consulting on alternative life style and kink, posted her new haircut on Facebook. She wrote she got sick and tired of her hair having to be beautiful and not fitting her present state of mind. So she ended up with a Viking haircut, one side about 20 inches less than the very long tresses he had before, still touching her shoulder. The other side, almost fully shaved.

 

She mentioned this fantastic hairdresser, understanding her very well and guiding her to the new style. Above that, this stylist offered not merely a good haircut but also a listening ear to what was bugging you or what your needs in life are.

 

That sounded very interesting. I got very curious and searched for her website. On the site she wrote about her evolving from just haircuts – which was okay but not completing fulfilling – to more than just an occasional chat during washing and styling, but offering soulful conversations, sometimes advice.

 

It took me weeks to schedule an appointment with her. First of all she was very busy and I choose for a 2 hours haircut and talk. Next to that, I found it a bit scary. But no reason for that, or ….?

 

Finally the day had arrived. I entered the salon nervously. There were other stylists at work too, but no mistake the tall women in her 40s, with the long blonde hair that was her, Dana. As if she recognized me from an earlier meeting, she came up to me and welcomed with a hug. Then leading me to a barber chair.

 

“So talk and a haircut, you already got your mind on the subject you would like to discuss and any ideas about your haircut?”

 

“Well actually, those two merge and that’s the reason I came to you. By the way, I found you through a Facebook post by Wendy. I did have an appointment with her to ask if she knew someone …..uhh…. Now I saw the post I decided to come to you without detour.”

 

“I am looking for a sort of transformation in my life. Get rid of little anxieties and be more daring. Living life to the fullest. My hair is a perfect example on that. I often think about another style. Maybe more masculine. The fact is a very sweet barberette convinced me to grow it longer. That was about two years ago. There are two sides to this. On one hand I like it, on the other …. I don’t know, it seems to represent my eternal doubts about even the smallest things. Thus avoiding things.

So each time I visit a salon, I ask them to just take off merely an inch or two. Leaving for home after the cut I am satisfied with the result, but …. After maybe two weeks the feeling is different. A short while ago I visited an award winning hairdresser when I was on holiday. I showed her pictures of shorter and very short styles. Hoping maybe she would somehow take destiny in her hands. But no. I must admit she did a great job. I was very happy with. Until a few days ago that is.

Somehow I do not have the guts to make big changes on my own. So, now I am here and must confess I am a little with fear.”

 

“That’s quite a story. How does it feel to share it with me?”

 

“Well I hope for some understanding …”

 

“Sure. I can imagine you are like a bit stuck by this. How can I help you?”

 

“I was thinking, you giving me two haircuts. First one, my usual. Keeping length and cutting it only an inch or so shorter. Then I would not go home and become restless after a few weeks, but you give me another haircut. This time cutting quite a bit off.”

 

“How short you wanna go in the end?”

 

“Frankly, I do not know. Certainly not like an average haircut. So keep it long or else somehow shorter.”

 

“Do you hear yourself talking dear. You’re backing out even before we have begun. You have a nice facial expression. A lot of styles will suit you. Don’t worry.”

 

“Okay that’s sounds good to me. Maybe we can discuss the final length after you did the first cut?”

 

Dana put her hand under her chin and looked at me as if she was thinking “There you go again, sticking to the usual”.

 

“Can I make a proposal? Like you asked I’ll cut your hair in two stages. But ….I’d like to help you on your way by making the first haircut count. Not your regular one or two inches off. “

 

This gave me the creeps.

“How much then …?”

 

“Just trust me. I will get rid some of the length so it will not be regarded as ‘long hair’ anymore. Perhaps a bit more than that.”

 

This was my moment to decide. Would I let this barberette, who never cut my hair before, just let her do what she had in mind? This turned very scary.

 

“But then of course you can stick to the old you. I would happy to oblige though it is not what you said you came in for …”

 

“I guess you are right Dana.”

 

Without further delay she combed my hair and took a pair of rather large scissors. Not speaking a word she started cutting the back. First a straight line at the base of my neck. Followed by taking strands of hair at the back and cutting. No idea how much she was cutting. I couldn’t see what she was doing or see the hair falling behind me. Then she moved to the side. With one snip above my ear, I saw about 15 inches of hair falling on the cape. The other side same recipe. This was a lot of hair!

 

Dana proceeded to the top of my head. Firmly grabbing my hair and each time very decisively making a cut. For me it was like a sound and light show. The shears finding their noisy way through my locks, followed by a massive pile of my grey fine hairs falling in my lap, just like snow falling.

 

She stopped. And I thought that was a phase one. A major phase one that is. But no. Dana got hold of another pair of shears. Each time lifting my hair with a comb and cutting over the comb. First the back, the sides and now she started the top. No comb to guide her here. Just her fingers, pushing them close to my skull and cutting just above it. What remained was about two fingers length.

 

I was in shock. I didn’t have my hair that short in thirty years or so.

 

It appeared she was ready cutting. She put down the scissors and began brushing the hair of my face, my neck and cape. She rubbed the hair on my head, resulting in tiny hairs floating down. I looked down and saw a massive pile of hair on the floor.

 

This was the ending of phase one clearly. Though it felt more than phase three out of two. I was speechless.

 

Dana took a chair and sat beside me. Looking at my hair, holding tiny strands between her fingers, pushing the top back. I was frozen. She was in control and I could sense she liked that.

 

She stood up, walked to another station in salon and returned. I didn’t anticipate she had got a pair of clippers from that station. Dana held those in her right hand.

 

“Can I shave you bald now?”

 

I had no resistance at all. Before I answered she lifted my hair, placing the clippers right under that and making a giant swipe to the back. Right down the middle.

“This is so much better …and surely very masculine …”

She continued her ‘first strike’ with buzzing the left side of my head. She paused a moment to clean the clippers from the tiny hairs in the attached comb. It looked crazy, one half of my head still covered with at least some hair, the other reduced to short stubble.

It didn’t take Dana long to finish the other side. Then repeatedly – making it even – by moving the clippers over and over on all sides.

 

“Click” the clippers were shut off and Dana softly brushed all loose hairs that were stuck on my head, neck and face. Picking up the clippers again she removed the attachment. Now I understood that if Dana said “bald” that was exactly what she meant. What was left of my hair, just a few millimeters, fell prey to her clippers. Dana proceeded with accuracy and to my joy worked very slow.

 

“Now for the final touch …” What did she mean by that. My head was completely done of all my hair. It had just a kind of shade like a two day beard.

 

She started to gently put shaving foam on my head. Not with a brush, but using her hands. Very tenderly. “Now sit very still please, don’t want you to get hurt.”

Well, I was frozen to the barber chair so …

 

Meticulously she worked her razorblade through the foam layer on my skull. Leaving absolutely zero stubble or shade of hair on my head. Which she at the end covered with a damp hot towel, after having wiped away the remains of the foam.

 

“I’ll leave you for minute now.” Dana walked away. I was on my own, facing the mirror. Not able to see the final result, just the towel wrapped tightly around my head. I could barely keep my tears inside.

 

After a few minutes Dana returned. She sat beside me and looked at my head and in my eyes.

“So, I guess you have accomplished your mission for today. Maybe this was the right day to go for it. Glad I could help.”

 

“Well maybe more than just help …” I replied.

Dana laughed “Guess you’re right. But it was just too challenging for me to let you escape. Maybe you’ll hate me for it tonight, but love me for it in the morning.”

 

Then with a swing she removed the towel and I witnessed a complete bald guy in the mirror. Dana gave me a little kiss on the top of my head and then also got rid of the cape. Looking down beside the chair I saw my tresses laying spread over the floor. It would take years to have it back.

 

Dana and I didn’t speak much when paying her at the counter. She gave me a big smile and put a small folded paper in my hand. “Read it when home …”

 

Arriving home I unfolded the tiny note, it said: “I hope you loved what I did. If so, then now you know how to return the favor. I can identify with what you told me when you came in. So …. Next Sunday at my place?”

Followed by her personal phone number. “No need to bring anything, got everything we need. Love Dana xxx”.

Leave a Reply