A Warm Afternoon by Newday
It was the middle of August and I had been riding by bicycle for hours when I decided it was time to go home. Sweat was dripping off the end of my nose when I pulled onto my street. I had just gotten off my bike to push it up the driveway when I heard a woman’s voice:
“It’s a hot day, isn’t it?”
I looked to see that the voice came from my new next-door neighbor who was sunbathing in her front yard. I took it as an invitation and walked over to where she was laying and sat down beside her. While I caught my breath, she continued:
“We have not been introduced, my name is Carol.”
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Through gasps of breath I managed to give her my name. While I took sips of water, Carol told me that she had just moved to Phoenix from Detroit to manage a coffee shop franchise and that she really liked it here. As she talked I could not help but notice how fine she looked. She was tall and her string bikini revealed her nice curves and rather large breasts. Her hair was blond (bleached?) and hung past her shoulders.
Carol was well read and we talked for a time on subjects ranging from the Phoenix weather to Green politics to music. It must have been a couple of hours when she looked at her watch and exclaimed:
“Oh no! I have missed my appointment!”
I replied, “What appointment is that?”
“My salon. Ever since I moved here I have been wanting to get my hair cut and then when I finally get a day off, I forget about it!”
“Perhaps you can just go late.” I certainly did not want her to miss her appointment.
Carol replied, “Too late, they have already closed. If I have to endure another month in this hot weather with my long hair, I don’t know what I’ll do!”
“I have an idea. Why don’t I cut it for you. I have cut women’s hair before.” Actually, I was stretching the truth, the only time I had done it was when I cut my sister’s hair back when I was a teenager.
She touched her honey blond hair and stared at me quizzically. “I don’t know, I want more than just a trim. Can you really do a good job?”
I managed to convince her of my expertise and she reluctantly agreed. I went over to my house to get my barber kit that I use to cut my own hair. When I got back, she had gone into the house and left the front door open. When I walked into the living room I was pleased to notice Carol shared my interest in Asian art.
Carol came out of a bathroom and we went out onto the back porch. She sat in a wicker chair. I stepped behind her. I was a little nervous and I think she was too.
“Are you sure you know what you are doing?” Carol asked.
“Never fear, super barber is here!” I quipped.
When I asked her how she wanted it cut, she said, “I need a change, it is just too hot. Maybe really short, like to the ears.”
I gathered her hair together and took a deep breath and grabbed the scissors and began cutting. As the scissors slid through, hair fell onto her lap. After doing away with the bulk I placed the scissors at the tops of her ears and began cutting around the circumference of her head so the back hair was even with the tops of her ears. She looked like she had a bowl on her head.
“Is everything OK?” I asked.
When she nodded affirmation. I reached for the clippers to trim the back. I noticed there was no electric outlet on the back porch and told her I had to get an extension cord. Before I left I gave her a hand mirror. When I got back I noticed Carol was just sitting there quietly looking in the mirror. I walked around to see her face and saw a tear on her cheek.
I inquired, “Are you sure this is the style you wanted?”
She gave a muffled sob and said, “I think it is a little late to change my mind, just hurry and finish it up.”
I turned the clippers on with no guard and ran them up the back so that it cleared the hair away, leaving bare skin. By the time I was done, I must admit, I had done a pretty poor job. The hair bowl on her head went straight around the back from the ear tops with only white skin showing underneath.
Meanwhile, Carol sat there clutching strands of hair in her hand.
“Just give me a minute,” she managed to mumble between sobs.
I did not mind because from my vantage point I could see down her bikini top where it just barely covered the tops of the nipples of her enormous breasts. I turned the clippers back on.
“I think I missed a few spots, let me trim it up.”
Putting the clippers to the back of her head I ran them up and over the top, leaving a bare streak of skin right down the middle of her head. Carol reached up and when she felt the naked skin, she started crying hard.
I tried to finish but she would not move her hands. I walked around and squatted down in front of her and waited for her to finish her cry. When the sobs subsided I spoke.
“The way it is now, your head looks pretty bad. I think there is no option except to finish the haircut.”
Carol looked at me with tear-stained eyes and slowly put her hands down from her head. I stepped behind her and quickly used the clippers to shave the rest of her head. When I was done Carol reached over with trembling hands and picked up the hand mirror. When she held it up I heard a little gasp.
“I am bald! I can’t believe it, no hair at all!”
While I cleaned up my barber tools, she continued to look in the mirror and rubbed her bare head with her other hand. After a few minutes, I walked around to brush the hair from her face and I noticed a change in her expression.
“You know this isn’t too bad. I think with the right clothes and maybe a scarf or a wig once in a while I might grow to like it. In fact, it feels kind of sexy.” With that she put the mirror down, and to my surprise, reached into her bikini to her crotch and began rubbing herself.
“Maybe I can help with that?” I inquired as I put my tools away.
“Maybe you can. But first, I need to get this hair off me.” With that she stood up and took her bikini top off, freeing her large breasts. Then she wiggled out of her bikini bottom. Carol, completly naked, walked over and turned the garden hose on and handed me the nozzle. I hosed her down while the sun’s glare glinted from her wet body and shiny, bald head.