Ruts and Rebirths

Annie let out a long sigh as she sat in the parking lot of the drugstore. Her grocery shopping was done, the drycleaning dropped off, and she had just picked up the prescriptions waiting for her. With a better part of an hour left before she had to get her three kids from their various practices after school, she debated what to do with her time.

She could call her mom…but there was no chance of that call ending smoothly in the time she had and that meant dealing with passive aggressive asides as she tried to hang up in time to get the kids. There was always social media scrolling…but as an already-anxious person that rarely made her feel any better. Then she noticed the chain salon at the other end of the drugstore’s plaza.

Annie’s hand went to her hair. It had gotten a little long. Her light brown hair was fine but she had a lot of it and it hung just past her collarbone. Annie liked to imagine chopping it all off. A few months back her coworker Kyle, who always wore his long, dark hair past his shoulders had come in with a #2 buzz cut. Annie couldn’t stop rubbing it! She loved the velvety softness of his barely-there hair. But the last time an overzealous stylist had cut Annie’s hair to the middle of her neck, she had to deal with months of sad eyes from her husband and three kids every time they looked at her until her hair grew back out.

Plus, she had an active life – hiking, biking, swimming – alongside her job and her kids and her partner and her friends…a ponytail or a claw clip was just easier. Cute. Fun. Easy. Safe.

When Annie was being honest with herself, her husband and kids’ sad sighs at her one-time bob was a convenient excuse to leave her hair long. As a naturally anxious person, loving rubbing someone else’s buzz cut was one thing but Annie didn’t even like picking the place for the family to go out to dinner. How could she ever decide to actually cut her hair off?

Still, she had the time and her hair had gotten long. Too long. With hair as fine as Annie’s was, when it reached this length it did nothing but limply hang around her face and shoulders.

No, it had to go. Well, some of it did. A little bit. Just to get her itty bit of bounce back.

That way her hair would look better, her family would be happy, and she’d still have her familiar hair.

With that, Annie was pulling her car out of her spot in the drugstore and maneuvering it to a space in front of the hair salon. Walking in, she was greeted by a bubbly woman with her dark hair piled in a bun on top of her head and the nape of her neck buzzed much shorter, the shaved part curving up around her ears.

That’s fun, Annie thought, but I could never do that. Not with my life. Not with my hair. Plus, growing an undercut out has to be worse than growing out bangs.

“Hello!” the undercut-baring stylist said, “My name’s Tina.” Poising her fingers over the computer at the front counter she asked, “What’s your phone number? Have you been here before?”

Giving her number Annie said, “No, I haven’t.” As a naturally anxious person, Annie liked the idea – in theory – of these places where they saved your haircut preference with your phone number. Having her style there waiting appealed to her as change wasn’t in her DNA. She’d gotten the same exact haircut – a light trim, keeping it swinging right around her collarbone – since college (save her one surprise bob). But her haircuts were always impulsive, squeezed in when and where all her errands allowed, so she rarely found herself at the same salon.

At least a tiny trim wasn’t the sort of look that needed saved instructions.

“So, what are we doing today?” Tina asked as Annie settled into the salon chair and she draped the white cape around her, buttoning it at her neck.

“Well, I’m bored with my hair and I’d like it to be fun and different and exciting but I don’t want it really short and if it’s a little shorter than now I can’t pull it back into a ponytail and I kinda need the ponytail and my husband and kids like it long anyway and I don’t want layers or bangs or anything so I guess just an inch or so trim and kind of leave it like this,” Annie rambled before ending on a sigh. “I know,” she said, “I’m boring. My hair’s boring. I’m sorry.”

Tina laughed reassuringly, “Don’t worry. Half inch to one inch trims are always popular. Big changes are few and far between. So it may not be what you dreamed but if it’s what you want, it’s fine by me.”

Annie agreed and watched in the mirror as Tina expertly worked her way around her head, sectioning Annie’s hair as she went and snipping not-even-an-inch of hair off with her scissors.

The result? Annie’s hair looked like it always did, only with fresh ends.

“What do you think?” Tina asked.

“Well,” Annie replied, “it looks just…the same.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” Tina asked.

“It is but, well, I feel like I’m wasting my time, you know?” Annie said. “Like, why did I get a haircut at all? Why pay for this? Can you cut more off? Maybe an inch? I’m sorry.”

“No, that’s fine,” Tina told her, patting her shoulder. “We can do an inch.”

Annie stared in the mirror as Tina began sectioning again, twisting and pining the hair on top of Annie’s head out of the way. Her head bobbed slightly as Tina ran her comb through all the hair still hanging down. Annie could feel Tina gathering a large section of hair in the middle of her head, from crown to nape, into her hand. Annie waited for the sectioning to continue but before more hair was pinned up…

Shhhhhick, shhhhick, shhhick…

Annie’s entire body tensed. Her eyes got wide and her heart began to hammer in her chest alongside a sharp intake of breath. Wait…wait, what’s happening?! Annie panicked. This can’t be happening. But then the snipping stopped. Tina’s hand came away from the back of Annie’s head. Tina was holding a lot of hair and Annie could feel the middle of her neck exposed while her hair still hung familiarly down on either side.

“There,” Tina said as she dropped a handful of hair – some pieces as long as eight inches – into Annie’s lap, “that takes care of that.”

“What…what are you doing?” Annie asked with tears welling in her shocked eyes. “Why did you cut my hair off?”

“Well,” Tina said, “I could tell you there was a misunderstanding. That when you said ‘maybe an inch’ I thought you meant leave an inch of hair left, and this is exactly what I’ll tell my manager later. But the truth of it is, you need this hunny. You want to be different, to be sexy and edgy and new, but you’re scared. You blame your husband and your kids but it’s you and your fear.”

Annie was struggling to breathe. It felt like she was on the verge of a panic attack. There were tears pooling in her eyes, waiting to spill down her cheeks.

“How long have you had this?” Tina asked, lifting the long, familiar hair on both sides of Annie’s head. “Long before your hubby or your kiddos, right? Think of me as your Fairy Godmother, granting the wishes you don’t say out loud. You need this. More than that, you want this. Trust me.”

With her request for trust, Tina ruffled the chunk of short-short hair on the back of Annie’s head. Her whole body tensed as her fingernails dug into the salon chair’s armrests. Could there be an inch of hair back there?! Annie wondered as she felt the shorn locks move through Tina’s fingers. There’s certainly not two inches left! What will her husband and kids think?? What will she tell them? What about everybody at work?! How can she ever explain this??

Annie’s mind whirled through a million anxiety-fueled questions as her breathing came in short, ragged gasps. So fixated on her fears, she didn’t notice when Tina set her scissors down. Nor did she notice when Tina picked up her hair clippers and snapped on a small plastic guard.

“This will be faster and look neater. It’s the best feeling too,” Tina said as she briefly ran her left hand up her own undercut.

Tina directed Annie’s head down to her chest then a POP and a bzzzzzzzzzzz…

That got Annie’s attention. Her eyes darted to the mirror. Her back went rigid. “No, please, no. Stop. Please,” Annie begged quietly. But it was too later. Before the first “no” had escaped her lips, the clippers were already sliding slowly up back of her nape and they didn’t stop until they reached the pinned up hair.

Her first tear fell when Tina flicked her wrist and Annie saw how much hair fell off the clippers. That was just from the path already been cut with scissors! And it was nothing compared to what came next. Each long, slow pass of the clippers up the back of Annie’s head severed ten inch lengths of hair which spilled down her neck and slid from her shoulders off the slick material of the cape.

The mix of such horrible sounds – the buzzing, the hair sliding down her neck and shoulders, the remnants of her beautiful hair hitting the floor – made Annie sick to her stomach.

After five seemingly endless strokes of the clippers, Tina had finished with the back of Annie’s head. She couldn’t see what was left of her hair but her head felt cool and clean in a way she’d never experienced before.

“Okay,” Tina said giving Annie a wink in the mirror, “that was the easy part. It may be a bit more of a shock to see what the clippers leave behind. But you’re going to love this. In the end. Trust me.”

Annie wanted to scream and swear, to demand both explanation and recompense. But all she could do was let a few more tears fall down her cheeks as Tina moved to the left side of her head and placed the clippers at her temple. Still feeling a sense of stunned disbelief Annie watched Tina slide her buzzing machine of destruction up into her hair. The clippers glided past her cheek, past her temple, past her eyebrows, only to stop at the hair pinned at the top of her head.

The shaved off hair slid from Annie’s shoulder, down her chest, and settled in her lap. Her mouth dropped and her eyes bulged as she saw what was left. Only the faintest shadow of stubble remained, 1/16^th of an inch of hair was all the clippers left in their wake. Annie could see her skin – her skin! – through the buzzed hair that remained.

Finally Annie found her voice but a pained “Why…?” was all she could ask.

“Because you are going to look so damn sexy when I’m done. I promise. You’re going to be happier too,” Tina said as she continued buzzing the left side of Annie’s head. “Fairy Godmother, remember?”

Stepping around to Annie’s right side Tina asked, “And c’mon, this is the best feeling in the world, isn’t it?” As the clippers moved back up into Annie’s long hair she watched unblinkingly as it cascaded down her shoulders to join the other cut off tresses in her lap.

Though a part of Annie had to admit it did feel amazing. She hated herself for thinking this but just as nausea swam in her stomach and her heart hammered in her chest a part of her was dying to let out the moan of pleasure she’d be holding since the horrifying clippers first buzzed her hair from her nape.

“Alright, now let’s get you all cleaned up,” Tina said as she placed her clippers on the counter and let down the hair on top of Annie’s head.  After spraying Annie’s hair with water, Tina picked up her scissors – those damn scissors which started all this! Annie thought – and began cutting again.

The swiftness surprised Annie. Clearly Tina had a vision in mind. Unlike the crunching of the scissors which surprisingly hacked off her dry hair at the start of this terrible ordeal, now the snipping was all but silent as Tina sliced off her wet hair.

Eight and ten inch pieces of wet hair were chopped off, falling past Annie’s nose and cheeks to land on her lap while others stuck to her shoulders or joined the mounds of hair littering the floor around her chair.

A blast of the blow dryer and Annie’s hair was dry in seconds – something she’d never experienced before. Tina played with it a bit and when she stepped away Annie gasped at the results.

Her precious hair, which had hung between her collarbone and her breasts her entire life, was shaved to 1/16^th an inch of hair all around her head and what was left on top had been shorn aggressively short as well. No piece was longer than an inch and the center part Annie had sported her whole life was replaced by a hard side part which wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon.

“See,” Tina said as she ruffled the top of Annie’s head and the hair fell perfectly back into tousled place, “this gives you everything you need. You wanted short hair but you needed the ponytail for your lifestyle. Well a crew cut solves both problems for you! And you get the added bonus of this.”

First, Tina slowly rubber her hands over the back of Annie’s buzzed head and then dragged her nails from nape to crown over the soft bristles. Annie’s breath caught in her throat, though it wasn’t from anxiety this time. Goosebumps rose on her arms and she felt a rush of warmth in her core.

Warmth…and arousal. What is happening? Annie wondered as her breathing quickened. Who am I? What is this?

“So,” Tina asked with her smile tentatively playing across her lips, “what do you think?”

“I…I don’t know,” Annie stammered. “But I can’t say I hate it…even though I hated it? If that makes sense?”

“Yeah, well I did shave your head without any more consent than the desires you left unsaid,” Tina laughed. “I get hating that. But I hope you love what comes next, your life with short hair.”

Standing on shaky legs, Annie moved to the front counter and went to pay. Tina waved her away, “No. No, no, no. I can’t charge you for this. But now we have a haircut to go with your phone number! So whether you come back and see me or stop at any of our locations, you won’t even have to ask for this! We’ll all know how you like your hair. Just give them your phone number and you’ll be good to go.”

Annie jumped as she stepped out of the salon and the cool night air blew around her freshly buzzed head. Each tiny lock ruffled in the wind and a surprisingly welcome chill went up her spine.

Sitting in her car and staring at herself in her rearview mirror Annie couldn’t even begin to imagine what her family’s reaction was going to be. If they were sad about a long bob how would they react to a crew cut? Annie wasn’t sure what she thought of it either. It was a lot to take in.

All she knew for certain was she was going to be late picking the kids up from practice because she couldn’t take her hands off her head…