An Encounter in the mall… Chapter One – The Salon
I think that I am going to wear just a plain white t-shirt and my well-loved Levi’s cutoffs.
Perhaps the Doc Martens, maybe just some really shiny black oxfords. I do love my long tresses.
I have changed my mind, I will not cut my hair. Yes I will, I know I will now.
My appointment is a 11:30. I am going to let Ann (my usual stylist )do it, but I made her promise to expect a change.
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She said that she would do her best.
I am having dinner with my parents tomorrow night, and I am fascinated with what I think they will say. Will it be too boyish? Will they again cry, “You got it cut? But you are nearly bald now!”
I don’t know, but it sure sounds interesting……
I sat down and Ann wrapped the pale blue gown around me, tight at the neck. As she turned away to pick up her brush I looked down at my brown knees and boots and took a deep breath …
“I want something different today Ann – a little boy crop I think it’s called,… like Ingrid Chavez? Or the short haired sister in the Shakespear’s Sister video, “Stay”?
She turned to look at me doubtfully in the mirror as she brushed my smooth chin length blond bob.
“Oh Ellie ! Are you sure, it’s awfully short you know? I’d have to clipper your neck to get that curve.”
I nodded, too nervous to speak, I recalled reading somewhere of another girl describing the ‘delicious terror’ aspect of getting one’s hair cropped off, and really understood it for the first time .. I was getting sexy!
“Well, OK, then I won’t cut it wet today .. we do the clipper work dry.” She put down the brush and ………
No – NO ! That can not be me in the mirror. There is a mistake ! My shadow does not have a small rounded head like this one. Whose is this bristly neck I touch?
I am quite shocked. It is the usual platinum, but it is quite, well, MALE.
Who knows?
I kind of like it. I don’t know about the bald spot on my neck, but, other than that, it isn’t half-bad.
I got nervous as the golden, glass locks that I had culminated for years fell to the ground.
They almost looked like ashes settling after a nuclear holocaust as they floated to the linoleum.
My bangs were my last vestiges of maidenhood.
To have them cut so perilously close was torture.
Three inches from my scalp they splayed alone. Nudity was their armor in the back, and a close proximity with scalp was their ally.
Fear choked me when at last she proclaimed it “done”.
I looked in the mirror.
I saw myself the same person, yet in need of different accessories….
I went shopping for make-up…….
Chapter Two – The Make Up Counter
Sensual and feline, with a grace reserved only to the powerful and the provocative, she crosses the floor. She has coffee brown eyes, capped by arched brows – I love to see that!.
Her pert mouth is the sort of ruby red even without lipstick, and a healthy-looking tan (not the crispy kind).
She must have recently been out in the sun because she had a bit of a burn across her cheeks.
Her eyes are bright diamonds, they are glowing with an energy that is with a color I cannot remember or define.
Palm up, she reaches out to me. I can see the lines which declare her history tattooed across the pink surface. I know how it would feel across my skin: warm, pliant, and slightly roughened by use.
I meet the conspiratorial smile, and note the blushed, sun-drenched skin, the arched brows which seem to cleverly question me. I reach out to her hand, and fill it with what is required, but not with what is desired.
Her hair is a dark brown, and it is extremely healthy and thick (it looked like silk!). This was a bit of a disappointment, though, because it was sort of a boring shoulder length style.
No bangs, ..just as well, – if she had had the crispy three-inch bangs I never would have gotten past them.
I could live with it, I suppose, even though I may end up being overly anxious to take her to Ann, my hairdresser to get a crisp, short, thick fringe cut across her gorgeous eyes.
Alas, I will not get the chance, though, because she is probably straight as a board.
She takes my money, and slips my purchases across to me. The stale tokens of obligation, silver and round and dirty, slip from my fist.
As I drown in the parted pearl brilliance of the offered smile, I feel as though I am carrying my heart in the sack, waiting to relinquish it upon request.
Chapter Three- The Morning
It was luxurious not to have to get up until 9.00 o’clock. The first benefit of being promoted and working the later shifts I recognized.
My bath was hot at first, and flushed my skin pink. The perfumed bath oil that Mom had bought me was delicious – my head swam in its silky wafts. I shampooed my hair with the a new product Aussie Citrifier – that smelt of Oranges and Grapefruit. Even wet, my hair felt like silk.
I used my new Gillette Sensor to shave my legs, and under my arms. Smooth and nice.
My arms and legs were brown – and tinged with sunburn from the weekend at the lake, that red flush that turns to golden brown I like so much. I dried off, then re-soaked all over with the pink Victoria Secret’s English Garden Lotion. Smooth and nice.
I wanted to look ‘managerial’ on my first day, but, of course, very feminine too. I chose and laid out a grey silk suit, – the skirt hugs my hips then drops to just above my kneecaps, and my creamy white blouse with long sleeves I got in Paris. Then off to the ever arduous chore of drying my thick mane of hair.
I was musing in the mirror, my arms already aching from continual lifting of the dryer and brush, as to whether I should get some bangs cut into my hair. I decided not, and twirled the round bristle brush to lift my heavy brown hair into two wings back, away from my face, onto the sides.
I dressed, – some liquid natural pan, light blusher, a smear of lip gloss and I pencilled in the emphasized arch of my eyebrows. I had plucked them only the previous weekend into an almost 1920 style bow over each of my dark eyes.
Mom said I looked constantly surprised with them in elegant arches.
I choose three matching earrings, small discrete gold studs and used some new plastic flexi-backs. Some Chanel l and I was ready .. my first day as management, my first on the make-up counter.
Chapter Four – The Make Up Counter
She had one single silver hoop dangling from her right ear. Her hair – oh so blond- was cropped in a boyish cap of gold that hugged her nape and a little spread of bangs fluttered across her green eyes.
Her choice of cosmetics – Clinique, Arden and Chanell was at odds with her dress. A plain white t-shirt, faded cutoffs and, seemingly huge on her slender legs, Doctor Marten’s boots.
Her green eyes. I swam into their depth and gave her, what I hoped, was a clear signal of interest, if not desire. Her returned look wandered over my body – I felt warm all over, and was sure I was flushed.
Perhaps she would think it was sunburn.
I held her cool hand in mine to stroke on a light smear of Coral Mist – a lipstick just more tan than red. I was shocked to see a trace of oil on her hand – ingrained into the whorls of her palm. She must have a motorcycle!
I stared at her in my surprise, and she returned my gaze, our fingers brushing as she wiped off the trace of lipstick. I’m sure my eyes were burning and flashing – I felt I was glowing all over. I raised my eyebrows quizzically at something she said, not even hearing the question.
I wrapped her purchases and asked for the money. I held out my hand .. daydreaming she would take it in hers and kiss it. She placed the money, and the right change to the cent in my palm.
I had closed my hand on it and stood still, reluctant to accept that this was all there was.
Her petite frame, in the enormous boots, clumped off. Her head held high. Not even a single glance back.
Chapter Five- The Return to the Make Up Counter
I am often accused of being too dramatic.
Perhaps this is true, but I experience things that are just too exhilarating and sensual to forget.
And I never forget being pleasured.
Just a simple drive in the car can be anything but ordinary.
An azure sky, music flowing out of the stereo, and swift-moving interstate traffic can make me forget that I am going somewhere.
(I love it when I start imagining that I am flying a spacecraft).
Thinking again of that rich silk hair, I put on the tapedeck Enigma’s collection of remixes “Mea Culpa, Part II”
Even if you don’t speak French, the erotic sound makes your ears tingle!!!
Gorgeous Words, Gorgeous meaning.
I just never forget how it feels to be pleased, and in awe of those eyes, rich hair and ruby lips, I turned the car around. I parked almost in the same spot. This time I went to the restroom before going into Dillard’s.
I slick it back my newly short crop with water and gel. There was another woman in the restroom and her reactions were amusing! I have done this sort of thing before with a dewrag, too. Once during the winter, I went to school wearing a motor cycle jacket, jeans, and a bright red dewrag. My lipstick even matched!!
One of my friends (very straight, and a bit square) walked right by and didn’t even recognize me!
I got in his way and he finally reacted with a puzzled and slightly frightened look, just as this woman was looking at me now.
I clumped back into the store and stood just looking at her, drinking her in. She was a little shy and flustered at my return. I tried to phrase the question in a way that would allow us both to save face if the answer was no.
I thought my appearance said enough. So did she, because her first words as I re-approached the counter were on the change to my hair. If I was, – as she gasped, ‘very butch’, then she, flustered, nervous, flushed and gorgeous was ‘very femme’.
I took the chance and asked.
Chapter Six- The Return to Morning
Sally’s eyes widened and she fell back onto her pillow as Ellie expressed her love …..
Sally gazed into Ellie’s eyes and they both moved into a deep kiss. Ellie’s head swum ..
They both had their eyes open, and were looking into each others sexual soul. Both giving a contented sigh, the two friends cuddled – eventually to drift off into a blissful sleep until morning.
Sally stirred and moaned with intense pleasure- melting into the mattress, …her dark silky hair – with the freshly cut tips of short spiky 3″ bangs framing her dark brown eyes- spreading in a dark cloud on the pillow beside her blond, cropped lover.