Tequila Nights to Die For Waking from her troubled slumber, Ellen is totally parched. Her mouth is so dry it hurts. I must been sleeping with my mouth open again she thinks… Going to the bathroom for a drink she doesn’t even bother to turn on the light. Gulping the cool water, it flows over her lips and runs down between her naked breasts. Filling the glass a second time, now less desperate, she takes it back to the bedroom with her. Lying back down she flips the pillow over looking some comfort. Slowly her tequila sodden brain registers a new sensation. Taking its sweet time to form on a conscious level, then throwing her into a complete panic…
She can feel the cool satin pillow case on her head!!! Bolting upright, scarcely breathing she lifts her hand to her scalp. Only to find nothing except bare skin.. “Oh shit!” she screams, both of her hands searching, her mind begging, please, PLEASE, not bald. Don’t let me be bald… Wide awake she tries to remember, how did this happen? Where is my hair? The harder she thinks, the more murky and clouded her memory becomes. Tears run down her cheeks, she pulls the covers over her head. This must be a nightmare, I am not really awake. Go back to sleep she repeats over and over and over… This is not real, is her last thought. Her mind releases her from this world of anguish and allows her some peace…
Hours later she wakes again, this time she knows it will not go away. This horrible thing, this disfigurement, how did it happen? Going to the mirror she turns on the light, the image staring back is sickening to her. It’s her face, but without the long black hair its the face of a stranger. She looks completely alien. Giving in to the overwhelming urges in her tummy, she throws up. Nothing compares with a tequila puking hang over. Laying on the cold tile floor, she manages to put a cool rag on her forehead. Thinking hard she struggles to put the pieces together…
After work she went to her favorite little hotel bar to celebrate. She had just closed a very nice account and felt a treat was in order. Her regular boyfriend was out of town on business so she went out alone. “Seymours” was quietly elegant and very safe. She settled into her usual place at the bar and ordered up some margaritas… She first noticed him staring at her, she smiled back. He asked to join her she thought “Why not?” He was charming to say the least, his greenish gray eyes burned into her soul. He said he was a hairdresser. This struck her funny because he sure didn’t look like one. He was very handsome sort of like David Hasselhof from Baywatch. It was his southern accent that melted her in more places than one. She had a thing for accents…
He touched her hand, it was as if sparks flew. The more she stared into his eyes, the more she wanted to become lost in them. Obviously she had become lost. At one point he got up and stood behind her, rubbing her shoulders. It felt so good, every tension left her body, her head sunk lower and lower almost touching the bar. He gathered all her hair up and twisted it into one long coil. Holding her chin with his other hand he had scrutinized her face. “What?”, she asked. You have great bone structure, he replied. With that he dropped her mane back down on her shoulders and walked away. Chills ran down her spine, alarm bells sounded in her head. Even the bartender seemed to notice, “Ellen are you okay? Is that guy bugging you?”, he asked. “Thanks Jerry, but I’m okay I think”, she says. “Well, just be careful. That guy is staying at the hotel but I don’t really know him”, he says. ” You’re just too sweet, Jerry, worrying about little old me”, she tells him.
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Tony comes back and touches her more. Which is just what she wanted… When he stroked her thigh it quivered. His smile, his touch, his voice, they intoxicated her. His discussions always came back to hair – her hair. Had she ever tried a short cut? Did she spend a lot of time on her hair? Would she enjoy more freedom with less upkeep? Finally, he asked the million dollar question… Would you like a haircut tonight?
As unbelievable as it seemed, Yes. She wanted him to cut her hair desperately. Nothing seemed as important, nothing else mattered. She only wanted this man and his scissors touching her. Nothing else would do, she had to have him. Trying to play it cool and not give her real feelings away. She tells him that she doesn’t know about a haircut but, how about coming back to her place to think about it… He just winks and says, “If I come to your place you WILL be getting a haircut.” At the time she thought that statement was slightly arrogant but she felt quite confident in her ability to read people and situations.
Shivering, she tries to get up. That’s how it all started she thought. Clutching the door jamb to steady herself, she goes to the kitchen for a Diet Pepsi. It tastes so good and washes the bitter taste from her mouth. “Am I vain or what?”, she thinks. The house is filled with mirrors, everywhere she looks her bare head leaps back at her. The reflection was disturbing, but even more disturbing was the mess she found in the living room. Her beautiful hair was scattered everywhere. She slumped down among the severed tresses and began to cry anew. Fingering a long thick strand, it was so soft and pretty, she wanted it back on her head. Back where it belongs. Ellen had nothing to judge her new appearance by, nothing positive that is. Only negative connotations, like cancer patients, accident victims, punk rockers, punishment cuts. She had never seen a woman look good bald, so all she could associate were the bad things.
Sobbing uncontrollably another concern arises. What will Bruce say? Bruce and Ellen had been dating for over a year now. While they were not engaged or anything, they had been a mutually exclusive item for quite some time. He loved her hair just the way it was. When they made love he wrapped his hands in it. He always offered to brush it for her. He was not going to be happy about this change at all. How could she possibly explain it? No one would believe the truth. Bruce would be home tonight, anxiety filled her as she thought about telling him about this… Work, Oh my God, What about work? She called in immediately and asked for a couple of person days. Anyway, that’s what they were for, personal emergencies. This qualified as an emergency, that’s for sure…
After a few more hours of tears she gets out the Yellow Pages and tries to find a wig shop. She searches for something to cover her naked scalp, finally an old floppy hat does the job. The shop is filled with hundreds of styles and colors, however nothing comes close to the beautiful hair she had. The woman behind the counter tries to help, but Ellen is too embarrassed to even try any on. Disgusted with her insecurity she leaves.
Driving to her best friend’s house, she thinks Kathy will know what to do. She and Kathy had been friends since junior high. Kathy opened the door and knew something was up immediately.
“What’s wrong, Ellen, you’ve been crying?”, she says. “Come in the bedroom and shut the door.” Taking her hat off slowly, she watches as Kathy gasps in horror. “Oh Ellen, my God what happened?”
“Kathy, is it really that bad?”
“I’m not going to lie, we have been friends for too long. I think you look terrible. Why in the world did you cut all your hair off?”
“Kathy, some hairdresser just talked me into this,” she says dejectedly.
“No Ellen, no way, what really happened to you? No one could just talk you into shaving your head.”
“Yes, I swear to God, that’s what happened.”
“Now Honey just settle down, are you sure you don’t want to tell me the truth?”
“God dammit, Kathy, this is the truth!” she screams. Kathy for the first time ever just shuts Ellen out completely.
“I think you need some counselling or something, you’re just not rational right now”, she says.
Once again Ellen finds herself in her car all alone more depressed by the minute.
At home she tries to clean up some of the carnage in the living room. She holds her hair up to her lips, brushing its softness against her cheek. Giving up she leaves the lifeless locks as a testament to her foolishness. Ellen tried to remember ever regretting anything in her life as much as she did this. Drifting back again to last night she thinks about the events. They had stopped off for a couple bottles of champagne at his suggestion. She thought he was just trying to show off when he bought the good stuff. She got her good crystal glasses out, after all, good champagne is not served in plastic cups. They had turned on some soft jazz and snuggled up on the couch. Quickly, her dress was hitting the floor, he told her how attractive she was in her black lace slip. Complimenting her on her sexy legs, she already knew her legs and her hair were her best features. His hands were in her hair pulling and stroking it all together. Telling her how sexy short hair was. Saying he was going to get his scissors and give her a haircut.
“Not too short”, she said, confidently. She could just say stop anytime, besides a change is good. Shorter hair might be fun, she thought.
He took a small pair of scissors out and a few other things. She just kept on drinking glass after glass of champagne. Every time he noticed her glass empty he filled it, always smiling, always a gentleman. He took out an extension cord and plugged it into the wall.
“What’s that for?” she asked.
“This”, he grinned as he held up a long wand type massager. As he approached, she trembled with anticipation of the pleasure he would give. He massaged her into a helplessly contented state. She was limp, every ounce of willpower was gone, she was at his mercy. He sensed this and she barely noticed when he traded the massager for the pair of clippers. He used those to massage her neck, also holding them against her nape, the vibrations flowing down her spine. It was a mixed emotion both peaceful, and sexually exciting at the same time. Her inebriated senses failed to notice when the clippers were pressed against her scalp. He brought them up, gently licking her neck. Waiting for a negative reaction that never came, he continued up the base of her skull. The long black locks slithered down her shoulders, falling into her lap. Only when he kissed her newly exposed scalp, did she fully realize what was happening.
“No, no, I don’t want my hair that short, she moaned softly.
“Yes, you do Ellen, you need it cut very short and that’s just what I’m going to do,” he told her.
“No, no,” she struggles again. He holds her tightly and rubs her long black hair back and forth. Pushing it over her face, her buries his teeth in her neck, she screams in ecstasy.
“I’m going to cut your hair, Ellen,” he promises. “I want to give you a short hair cut, okay?”
“No”, she whispers.
“Yes, just think about this. I could just tie you up and give you a little bondage haircut,” he suggests. This thought turns her on incredibly. “Yes,” he says, “that’s what you need, a nice bondage cut. I could rip your pantyhose off and tie you up with them. Then I could give you the haircut I want.”
That did it, sending her straight over the edge. She was a drift on a sea of orgasmic rushes. He held her while she quivered and shook. His hardness pressed against her legs, this was very exciting for him too. He loved cutting women’s hair like this. Intimately, not at his shop trimming 1/2 inch off like everyday. He lived for major makeovers, lots of hair to plow through, looking for that inner beauty. Nothing was more lovely to Tony than a pile of hair on the floor and a freshly shaved scalp in his bed.
She told him firmly, “No being tied up for me, but, you can give me a haircut.” He laughed at her. “Of course, darling, that’s what I said from the beginning. You’re going to look so good.”
Seeing him pick up the clippers again, she says, “No, not those, they cut too short.”
“Fine,” he says, “I will just get my scissors.”
“Clippers, scissors, either way all her hair is coming off”, he thinks.
“The haircut to die for,” he promises. Parting a section off and clipping the rest out of the way, he places the scissors above her ear and slowly starts to cut. The long silky black hair falls down, tumbling into mounds around her hips. She holds her breath, every snip sending erotic sensations through her body. Then he unclips the rest of the long hair and just starts shearing through it. She gasps for air and struggles to breathe as the huge handfuls fall into her lap.
“Not so much, not so short,” she pleads.
“Yes,” he whispers into her naked ear. “Yes, all of it.”
Continuing on he cuts the rest of the long hair off. The room is filled with the heat of passion as the hair falls to the floor. He parts her much shorter hair and begins taking it down to about 1 1/2 inches all over. Then tapering the back even shorter till it blends into the clipper shaved nape.
She cannot believe how short he is cutting it. The 3 and 4 inches pieces come flying past her nose. He trims around her ears giving her tiny little sideburns. Blowing softly across her face, she looks once more in those magical eyes of his. “You are stunning,” he says. She runs her hand up unsure of what she will feel. Blushing as she feels it so short and freshly cut. Her fingers just glide right through it. Wrapping her arms around him they fall together in a long sensual embrace.
The knock at the door brings her out of the past back to the present. Scrambling for her hat, she walks to the door to greet Bruce. They hug and he immediately feels a difference in Ellen. “What’s up, Honey?”, he asks.
“Bruce, I did something kind of silly and I hope you will not be too upset,” she says.
“What?”, he asks.
Taking her hat off, she watches as Bruce’s eyes get large and his face turns red. “What the hell did you do that for, Ellen?” he demands. She tries to explain but he does not want to hear. “You let some man you don’t even know cut all your hair off? Ellen? That’s the story you’re going to feed me? What else did he talk you into?” he demands.
“Bruce, I know it sounds crazy but I swear that’s what happened, just a haircut, that’s all.”
He thought about the situation but it just didn’t make any sense. Many evil malicious thoughts filled his head. He could live with a lot of things but this wasn’t going to be one of them.
“I’m sorry Ellen, I just can’t hang with this, you’re not the person I thought I knew.”
“Bruce, it’s only hair. It will grow back,” she begs. “Please don’t judge me like this.”
“No, Ellen, it’s over between us. I cannot understand this at all.” He walks out and she just stares at the closed door. Total rejection, that wasn’t what she thought would happen. First Kathy going nuts and trying to send her to a shrink and now Bruce just walks out on her. Ending their relationship, period. What’s wrong with these people? It’s only my hair, not me. I am still the same person inside. Aren’t I? Looking in the mirror again, she searches, I am still me? Right? It’s the same me. No one else seems to think so. Giving up she goes in for some immediate comfort, the bottle of tequila. After a few drinks she calls her Mom, good old mom, she will understand.
“Mom it’s me, Ellen… Yeah, I’m fine. Mom, listen, I broke up with Bruce. He was completely unreasonable. I got my hair cut and he had a fit… Short, really short, kinda like a crew-cut… Mom, no, listen, everyone’s freaking out. I need you to listen to me. No one else will… Mom, don’t be like them… MOM… Mom, I gotta go. Bye.”
“Shit,” she thinks. “No-one understands.”
Thinking again, why didn’t we just stop with the first haircut? Maybe that would have been the smart thing to do. She remembers being so happy, Tony was smiling at her. She felt good, sexy, so alive. She didn’t regret anything at that point. Tony had held her to his chest rubbing his hands through her short hair. He suggested more massage and she willingly laid her head in his lap. He worked up and down her back, she loved it. Then she looked up into his smiling face. He suggested that only clippers could give her hair the uniformity it really deserved. She almost hesitated but couldn’t. He looked so happy, so content as he lifted the clippers toward her head. The buzzing was pleasant and she was feeling very buzzed herself. He stroked them up the back of her head. Saying words she always wanted to hear from a man. Up and over the crown of her head, he manoeuvred them so she had no idea, how much hair was piling up against the blades. Slowly, he clipped all the hair from the back of her head. She started to speak but his reassuring voice, convinced her to stay silent. “Just enjoy the feeling, darling,” he said. “You are going to feel so much better with all this bothersome hair gone. It just covers up your true beauty.” As long as his hands were on her head, she was in heaven.
He had her roll over as she watched as the clippers come right toward her forehead. She didn’t say “No”, she just accepted whatever he did. “Now”, he finally says. “You look great.” Her hand reached up and was shocked to find only sand-paper.
“What did you do to me?”, she asked him.
“Gave you a wonderful haircut, now didn’t it feel good?”
His hands squeezed her temples, but before she could answer, she was lost in pleasure. His hands worked her scalp, never leaving her head. They slept all night like that, whenever she woke, he had her wrapped in his arms rubbing and stroking her scalp.
Then she woke up alone and bald. She didn’t even know his last name. She was a fool. There was no magic, no man to hold her and quickly she realized there was no hope. No one understands, she never felt so low before. The door bell rang, she almost failed to answer it. It was a florist box, beautiful red roses, with a card. She took the card and slowly opened it. “Thank you for a beautiful evening. I will never forget it. Tony.” The card falls from her hand as she thinks, “I wish I could forget. I wish a million things but mostly wish this wasn’t true. I wish this hadn’t happened.”
By the end of the week she no longer had a job. Her boss got fed up with her vague excuses and demanded she show up. She simply couldn’t bear to leave the house. She quit answering the phone and the door. Only the delivery people saw her hands, briefly as she thrust them the Mastercard. She drank too much and overate. Sugar and liquor were her only friends after everyone else had forsaken her. Her stubbly head was repugnant to her. She hated herself more each day. Sometimes you do something you just can’t live with. Life had become unbearable for Ellen. She couldn’t wait for her hair to grow back and the people in her life to accept her again. Being bald and alone was too much for her. So, one night she simply went over the edge. She rubbed the cool barrel against her head, thinking one more time if there was any other solution. Then she put the pistol to her head and pulled the trigger.
The police were called to check on possible shots fired. The ambulance came but it was hopeless. Obviously, they determined by the empty bottles and trash, she had been on an extended binge. There was only one question: Why had she cut off all her hair before she killed herself?