“I think I should get one of those curly hairstyles like Bradley has.” He stirs his drink, Kaylee, his girlfriend, sits across from him. Cloth napkins cover dinner plates. The end of the night has come, and the pair are liberated by the bottle of wine they split. To him, it’s the perfect time to bring this up.

Kaylee ponders, “A perm? I’m not sure, love. I mean, whatever you want, but I like your long hair. Besides, I thought you wanted to get the proper products to maintain it.”

“I know, but it looks cool on him, I think it could look good on me too.”

“Seems like a lot of commitment to me, but who would do it for you?”

“Well, Bradley has a guy.” He shrugs.

She gives him a look, “Ew, Chase. No. You cannot go to a barber for a perm. Let me ask my salon at least.”

“Kay, I cannot go to some woman’s salon. That’s like—”

She cuts in, “—completely reasonable when you want a good haircut?” She finishes for him before continuing, “You cannot go to your five-minute quick cuts and expect to get a hairstyle beyond ‘moderately fucked up’. You need a specialist—someone who knows how to perm hair.”

He pouts at her very reasonable assertion, “Well, I guess I’m not getting one then. I can’t afford to go to some ritzy salon.”

Kaylee smirks at him, “That’s fine, babe, let me treat you to it. You at least need a trim.”

“I can’t let you do that, I mean, it’s weird.”

“Nonsense, let me call my salon and see what they say. How about that?”

“I-, well, I guess. I mean you think I’d look good with one, yeah?”

“Well, I like your hair longer, so as long as you don’t cut it off, I don’t mind a little experimentation.”

“Brad’s is— “

She cuts him off, “Yeah, but Brad looks like a dickhead with his broccoli hair. I don’t think you can pull that one off. Mainly because you are not a dickhead like he is.”

“Oh, come on, that’s not fair!” He returns, Brad could be a bit gruff maybe, and a bit mean, but it wasn’t his hair that made him that way. He was just like that.

Kaylee continues, “Ah ah, keep the length, and a perm that does not make you look like a dickhead will be in your future.”

“I don’t see why it’s such a big deal to copy his hair?” He asks.

She finishes off the last of her wine, “I’m positive he is hiding a receding hairline, and you are not, ergo, you have many more options.”

A sobering thought that it could easily have been him who lost his hair slowly like Brad, but maybe he was just lucky. He lets the prospect of aging simmer as the check arrives, she snatches it without hesitation. “I could pay for that.” He mumbles to her.

Too gleeful at the role reversal she replies, “Nope, I pay for dinner, and I pay for your perm, a kept boyfriend shouldn’t have to think about these things.”

“Not fair.” But he chuckles.

~~~

Fridays were his favorite day, for most of the usual reasons and also because he was able to work from home. It basically meant a half day to catch up on work before a nice, sunny weekend.

A knock on his home office door, “Hey, so I called Joanna and the girls down at my salon and they say they’d be happy to have you in.” Kaylee stands in the open door.

He swivels his chair around, “Oh really? That’s great!”

“Yeah, they actually have space this afternoon. Since you usually take Fridays off, I figured I’d drop you off for a few hours.”

“Few hours?” He questions.

“Beauty takes time, sweetheart. So, leave here around noon?”

He swivels his chair back to his to do list, he could do that. No photo spread was worth staying late for on a Friday. He was pretty sure half the team had already checked out for the day, and it was barely ten in the morning.

“Sure, I can swing that.” He shrugs.

She’s beaming at him, “Perfect! I’ll let them know!”

~~~

“Okay—so—you know what you want?” Kaylee asks in the car.

“Yep.” He nods.

She raises an eyebrow at him, “Did you bring pictures?”

“Um, no? Should I have, usually I just tell the guy.” Is that what he was forgetting? The three-pocket check had not failed him before he left. It must have been the pictures. Although had she ever told him that was necessary?

“Oh, no, honey.” She trails off, stifling a giggle.

“It’s fine. I’ll pull some up when I’m there.”

“They might have magazines.”

“Ew. Really?”

She laughs, “Yes silly, ‘mag-a-zines’, you know, the thing you work for.”

“Oh that! Right…”

Kay pulls into the parking lot. “Okay, here we are. Go in and ask for Brittney.”

“Wait, you’re not coming in with me?”

“No, it’s gonna take you a little while so I’ll pick you up later.” She shrugs.

“Oh, but-” He looks at towards the door to the salon. Well, the door to go into the building one of the suites where the salon with Brittney would be. “Alone?” The thought makes him hunch forward, closing in on himself.

She tilts her head and frowns at him, “You’ll be fine. Go in, ask for Brittney, she’ll take care of you. Scooch!” She shoos him. “Text me when you’re almost done!” She calls out after he has stepped out onto the sidewalk.

Kaylee gives him a final wave and soon he is left on the stoop of this suburban five over one. A blast of AC greets him when he opens the door and it takes a minute for his eyes to adjust to beige walls and florescent lighting. Instead of checking the directory he begins walking further into the building.

Towards the end of the hall past several medical and office suites he sees the sign for the hair salon, tucked away in the back. Plants decorate the entrance, and the door is propped open, there’s even a small standing chalkboard sign greeting him. The smiling fave of a young woman startles him, sitting at the front desk. “Hi, um, I think I have an appointment with Brittney?”

“Hi hun! Sure, let me look” she checks her notes, scanning, “Are you Chase?”

“That’s me.” He nods.

She smiles at him, “I’ll let her know you’re here. Looks like you’re a little early, have a seat, browse a magazine. She’ll call you back.”

“Okay, thanks.”

He sits in the plush chair, facing sideways near the door. On the coffee table rests several hair themed magazines. With little better to do, he grabs one with a woman on the front with a large amount of curly hair.

Make the chop today, these Bobs will save your neck!

No thanks. He thumbs further.

Everything to know about Filler! Industry secrets revealed!

Filler? What’s that?

Hot, sexy ways to style your hair the way men like!

Ew.

Twenty-Five Amazingly Modern Perms you’ll love!

That one fits the bill, and to believe that Kaylee said this would be difficult. He turns each page slowly, looking at a bunch of different hairstyles that were nothing like the one Brad has. In truth, they look pretty girly if he had to say so. Even accounting that the models were all women they still looked on the far side of feminine. Kaylee had been very stern the night before when telling him to not cut any length off, but Brad’s is up by his head? He’d just ask her if there is any way to lift it up.

“Hi there, Chase, right?”

He looks up, a mid thirties woman with blonde highlights looking down at him. He stands and shakes her outstretched hand. Very proper.

“Yes, and you must be Brittney?” He asks.

“Yes, I am, come on back and let's take a look at your hair.”

He follows her down the hall, passing several other doors that have stylists and customers in them. “So, uh, you work with Kaylee?”

“Oh, no she works with Amber, but I was available, and I do all the girls who want perms here.”

“That’s cool, so you know what you’re doing then?” He quips.

She gives him a look, “Yeah, I think I know how to do perms. Now sit in that chair and get comfy. It’s going to take a while.” She points out the leather chair, not too different than the ones in the barber shop.

She leads him into the room. The small room is painted beige to try to offset the harsh lighting, even if it hardly works, the gesture is appreciated. Several pieces of hair themed inspirational art line the walls. The single chair and sink with cabinets towards the front. A second chair and then a third with a dryer attached sits in the back corner.

He sits in the awkward chair, adjusting to get slightly comfortable at least.

“So, let’s take a look at your hair.” She begins to comb through, separating pieces and lifting others. “I really like the length. Shoulder length looks good on you. Now, what were you looking for in a perm?”

“Uh, my friend has one, he looks pretty cool with it. It’s kinda like, all curly up here.”

“Was his hair long before?”

“Not really, he had a bit of a mullet”

“Hm. I mean, we can’t exactly get that look on you unless we cut a lot off. Is that okay?”

“Please don’t.” He shakes his head, “Kaylee likes the length. I mean, I do too, so I would like to keep it. “

“Hmm.” She messes a bit, pulling and clipping hair in sections. “We could do a smaller size. Then in order for it to be near the length you want you could just put it up into a hairdo, like with a clip.” She pauses again, looking at him in via the mirror. “That might be a lot of volume to handle. I could give you a little fringe up top to help, maybe some layers? When you put it up you will need some framing to help soften your features. Sorry I must be speaking gibberish to you.”

“That wouldn’t shorten it?”

“Oh, no sweetie, it would take a bit of hair from here, she combs in front of his face, then mimics cutting it a bit shorter. So, it’s not considered cutting length off, it helps frame your face. You have pretty cheek bones so that could work for you. Your eyebrows are a bit unkempt so if we do that you need to make sure those are neatened up.”

“I’m not sure I follow.” He shifts nervously.

“Oh, don’t be silly.” She lifts some hair up, cupping it around his face. “Hmm. I think we should go tight, and I’ll adjust sizes. Your hair should sit about here when I’m done.” She hovers her hands underneath his chin.

“Oh, wow. That short without cutting it off?”

She laughs a little, and he gets the feeling it might be at him, “Yes, sweetie, that’s how curls work.”

“Oh, yeah, okay, I knew that.” he nods.

She giggles at him, “Don’t worry though, I’ll give it some layers and that will give you some nice volume. A little framing on the face and voila: you’ll be pretty as a picture.”

“Pretty?” He asks, an uneasy feeling settles into his stomach.

“Handsome, if you insist, but there is nothing wrong with being pretty.” She taps his head. “You have the face for it. You’ll see.”

The compliment makes him blush.

“Now let’s get started!” She spins the chair around, lowering him into the sink. “Would you like to know the steps?”

“Um, okay?”

“Yay! Glad you’re showing an interest in this. So, first we are going to rinse your hair thoroughly and use a clarifying shampoo.” He lays there, eyes closed as she begins to saturate and massage his scalp.

“Afterwords, we’ll start wrapping your hair with our special, patented rods. My clients love them. Personally, I think each curler helps the hair attain a fresh, renewed confidence in herself and then she passes that along to you.”

“Like osmosis?”

“Yes! Exactly like that osmosis. Gosh, you think I’m crazy, but I swear, hair is, like, the most important aspect for self-worth. How many bad hair days lead to bad days? I dare say the figure would astound us!”

The hair massage feels wonderful, and he further relaxes into the processing as she rinses his hair out. She lifts him from the basin with a towel wrapped around his hair. Her weird infatuation aside maybe he should be getting his hair trimmed here. His old barber barely looked at him while threatening to use his clippers.

“Before you settle in, would you like some complimentary ear buds? We’ll still be able to chat of course, but it helps pass the time for you.”

He taps his pockets, “Pretty sure I brought my own, hold on,” he digs through the right pocket of his jeans, thankfully a bit stretchy so his hand could fit in them, while sitting down, and fiddles around for his AirPods. Snagging them, he pulls out a folded wad of paper, which are nearly the same size. The receipt from the restaurant? What an odd switch up, “Well, I guess I left them at home.”

“Oh, don’t worry, honey, these are single use, sanitized and everything. We have a little playlist we like our guests to listen to! A lot of work to do and this will help the time pass.” Without waiting for an answer, she slides an ear bud into each ear. Soft music is already playing. “Let’s spin you around, easier to work this direction.”

“So, step two. Is to get your hair only damp, then we begin wrapping the rods around it. I’ll be using several sizes depending where we are at, but we’ll start here and work our way through. Here, hold these.” She places a box of rods into his hands, full of different colors and sizes. It takes several minutes of sectioning, separating, then pinning his hair to have everything the way she wants it.

“Gosh, you have such pretty hair. No signs of thinning or losing it either. If you hadn’t come to me, it would have been wasted on a boy.”

It was the second time she called his hair pretty, but it wasn’t pretty, it looked manly, like those actors who he can’t remember the name of at the moment. It didn’t stop his tummy from feeling weird though, “Oh, thank you then.” He smiles at her through the mirror.

“Of course, sweetheart. You’ll be as fresh as dew by the time I’m through with you.” She giggles. “Now, the fun begins!” She takes a small section, combing it, testing it, then finally:

“Pink first!” She giggles, taking the pink one he hands her. “Sorry it’s such a girly color. They don’t exactly make boy-colored curler rods.”

He chuckles, giggles with her, “Oh, that’s okay, I’m not—like—weird about those gender norms.”

She gives him a look.

“White!” She continues to wrap small strands of hair around working meticulously.

“White please, dear.”

“Okay.”

Working her way to the front, “Yellow for these.” He continues to hand them to her.

“White.”

“Pink.”

“I know most people say that your hair holds memories, but I like to think that curling it instead helps redefine those memories. Pink.”

“It’s like with each curler; we get to redefine a little piece of you. Isn’t that neat? Yellow please.”

“Hmm, we’ll trim these up and neaten up your face too. White!”

Slowly, his head begins to feel tight as she wraps winds his hair towards his scalp. Only the occasional color call breaks the silence. The music is nice and lulling, and it definitely takes the edge off of the other stimulus in the room. When did the lights get so bright? He rests his eyes, how odd to be stuck halfway to la la land as his hair slowly fills up.

~~~

“Almost wrapped honey, are you enjoying the music?”

Knocked from his stupor, he replies, “Oh, yes thank you. Also thank you for taking me on such little notice. This was a bit spontaneous of me.”

She smiles down at him, “It’s my pleasure. Just a few more pieces and we can get it set.”

“Sounds great!”

She continues to wrap up the strands. Letting him lull back to complacency. He was in such good hands with her.

“We just need to do your money piece as I call it.”

She takes the last two sections of hair, combing them gently down the front of his face. “Do you mind honey, I’m going to go ahead and trim this section, so they’ll fit on the rod better.”

“Oh sure, whatever you need!” He smiles at her as she brushes the section down in front. “Close your eyes, sweetie, wouldn’t want to get any on you.” He squeezes his eyes shut. The scissors open and close in front of him.

“There, see I didn’t even take much off.”

He opens them again, hair covering his eyes still. Hopefully Kaylee isn’t mad about Brittney trimming that.

“Now we can get these wrapped for you. Light blue please.”

He digs through the box, finding a few of the smallest rod he’s seen yet. Much smaller compared to the other ones. She takes them with a smile.

She portions out his hair again, wrapping light blue rods into it, nestling them in front of the others. “So now, we need to give you the solution treatment, and that will need to set for thirty minutes.”

“Oh, that’s a long time.”

“Don’t you worry, there’s plenty to do while we wait.”

She begins to spray streams of solution onto each rod. It feels odd, much like the rest of this experience, was this what Bradly did?

When she finishes, she covers his head in a bonnet so it doesn’t drip onto him. His scalp begins feels warm, but she says that is normal before raising the chair up, so they are at eye level. “Okay, how about those eyebrows. Mind if I clean them up?”

“Surely that would be too much trouble?” He asks nervously.

“Not at all, we have to wait anyway.” She smiles at him, lowering the chair slightly. “Just relax your face, deep breaths.” She moves around him, grabbing some warm wax and strips. Deftly applying warm wax that soothes, before yanking it off with a strip. He sees white for a second, and almost yelps, but she’s going so fast that he is scared to cry out in pain lest she take the whole eyebrow from him somehow. With each pass, it gets easier, the pain melting into one another forming an area instead of individual hair follicles crying out.

She giggles after a satisfying pull, “Tsk tsk, no more unibrow for you.”

How nice of her to take this opportunity to help him look better, he could hardly remember the last time Kaylee had attacked his face with tweezers, how unkempt they must have been. “I’m truly sorry, I don’t know what got into me to let it get this bad.”

“It’s alright, you’ll come back and see me before it gets this bad again, yes?”

“Certainly.”

“Good because friends don’t let friends have gross eyebrows!”

“They don’t!” He giggles back to her.

She moves to the other side, repeating the warm wax on, rip off method that worked well for the previous side. The stinging doesn’t subside until she is done though. Applying a nice lotion to help the redness. “They won’t be so bad next time. These will last you a month or more. Now, let’s get these ugly patches off the side.” She gently nudges his head to the side, before taking the clippers and cleaning off the ‘ugly’ sideburns there before repeating the process on the other.

“Mind if i get your upper lip too?”

“Sure.” Thinking she was just going to take the trimmer to whatever patchy grossness was there, she instead spreads the still warm wax onto it. “Hold still, sweetie.” Before yanking off the strip that now contains a meager mustache.

“That was so easy, let’s get chin and cheeks too.” She says after already rubbing the warm wax along his jawline. He does not have a beard, nor was he able to grow one, but despite this it was a terrible pain. Thankfully, she soothed it quickly with a cool compress.

“There, now that’s much more suitable to your new style. That grungy hipster hair was so blegh, out of date. This helps you look much more refined.”

“Whatever you say.” He mumbles, his face burning.

It’s only with a minute or so to spare before her timer goes off, “Goodness, what perfect timing. Now, let’s get you rinsed!” She swings him back around, jostling him slightly as the chair lowers him into the basin again. Cool water soothes his scalp.

“I bet that is helping relax you. It can get a little warm in there, not to worry we’re over halfway now!”

He rests his eyes, taking deep breaths as he lets the painful experience wash over him. Whoever said beauty is pain was right. He tries to focus on the calming music that is supposed to guide him through the experience. Yet when he focuses on the music, it drifts away from him, his mind wandering after it as it lulls him deeper and deeper.

“So, once we have this rinsed out of you, we’ll need to spray in the neutralizer to help lock in your new ‘do. Now, listen closely.” She tilts his head up to look at her. It takes a second for his eyes to adjust, but once they do, she continues:

“Take this seriously, otherwise you’ll mess up all of my work. No washing your hair for 72 hours. No blow dryers for the first week. Deep condition once a week. Only use wide tooth combs on your wet hair to help separate your curls. No regular hairbrushes. Lastly, No putting up your gorgeous hair into tight updos like braids or buns. You can loosely secure it with pins, or a loose scrunchie but that’s all. At night, put your hair into a satin bonnet to protect it. This hair requires protecting, so you must take good care of it, otherwise you’ll be back here in this seat sooner than expected.”

He nods, “Yes ma’am. I wouldn’t want to ruin it.”

She lets go of his chin, “Perfect, angel. Now, let’s get you neutralized, conditioned, and under the dryer.”

She begins coating each of the rods with the smelly solution that leaves him feeling floaty and high. Like every step in this process, it takes time, and in the quiet, stillness of his mind he wanders after the music playing in his ear again.

After several minutes of quiet she “Alright dear, we’re making good progress, hang in there for me.”

“Sure,” he slurs as she rinses out the neutralizer before spinning him again. It makes him dizzy. “Gosh, you’re looking spacy, are you feeling relaxed? You’re doing great from my perspective if that helps you through it.”

“Oh, really?” He smiles languidly.

“You’ve been a great canvas for me to work my magic, dear. I think you’ll love it. Now that the neutralizer is out, we are going to do a deep conditioning and then put you under the dryer for a bit. We need to lock in this revitalized form of you.”

She begins to spread conditioner on each of the rods, taking her time, “So each perm is slightly different, my look for you is going to be firmer curls, it’s pretty popular now to do looser, softer perms for other girls, but since you want to be able to pile your hair on your head you need to have some more structure to it. It should also mean less frizz to manage, if I do my part right that is.”

He nods, listening as best he can through the music.

“So, while for other styles we would be removing the rods now, for you, we are going to dry the hair with the rods in, that way your hair can ‘lock’ into this new style better. The science of the cuticle is so interesting to me. Remember how hair holds memories? Once we dry your cuticle we’ll have locked in a new mindset for you too!” She giggles.

Still such an odd way of looking at hair, but he’s glad she’s happy with the process. A refreshed look at the world would be nice.

Once she’s finished with the leave-in conditioner she helps him stand, guiding him over to the chair with the big bowl dryer. His legs are like jelly and his mind feels like goop from all the chemicals and prodding. An arduous process for sure. He just needs to hang on a bit longer just like she said.

She sits him down and lowers the hood until it covers his head. She checks all around, making sure everything was proper, before flipping several switches, the final switch turns the fan on. The dryer, despite being modern, is still rather loud. Before she turns away Brittney is kind enough to hand him a magazine, a fashion magazine, but at least it was something. At first, he figured it’d be boring, but as he flips through, he finds several of the pictures and articles catch his eye, like the one about enhancing silhouettes using techniques “lost” to the past. He had never considered the way fashion had changed through the eras.

The photo spreads were nice too, he was curious if they used an in-house photographer or contracted it out, most of his own work came from in house. The editing style was certainly uniform, so hopefully they kept photographers in house too. His lifestyle magazine was not fashion focused, but the writing here was still approachable. It must have been a good magazine if it enraptured him like this.

He was hardly left to his own through, Brittney came to check on his hair regularly, gently patting and looking to see how it was drying. Her little comments about how pretty it will be, and about how next time they should do highlights filter through the drone of the dryer and his earbuds. After her third time checking he feels how tight the pressure on his head is getting, like the hair on his head was tightening down to his scalp. Was that how curls worked?

He tries to focus on the magazine again, but the words mush together and exhausted the pretty pictures of women modeling pretty clothes. He decides to let the music, and the hairdryer tune out the rest of the world, zoning out to a photo of a young woman holding a Pyrex of banana pudding.

“Alright honey, let’s get you finished up.” She gently shakes him from his reverie. “Don’t worry, it’s only been an hour, your hair is dry, it’s time for our next step: Unwrapping these beauties!”

“Mmkay” he murmurs. Noticing that the mirror is covered now as he is led back to the main chair.

She prods and taps around his head, double checking his crunchy hair, “So I like to cover the mirror at this stage because we still need to give it some shaping and whatnot. I think the final picture is more important than the process to get there now.”

“Mmkay.” He replies.

“Okay, let’s get started. I’m going to unwrap these, and hand them to you, you just put them in this box so I can clean them later, okay?” She starts to unwind them one by one, handing them to him where he sets them down into an empty box.

Each curler removed releases some of the pressure on his head. He could almost sigh with relief now that the process was almost done. How had Bradley not complained at all about this process was beyond him. Without any windows it was hard to tell how much time had passed, but it must have been hours, right?

“These are turning out incredible. All the girls will be fawning over these. Perfect ringlets. I’m really glad you trusted me on this; those beach wave perms don’t have the same oomf that yours will.”

“That’s great.” He mumbles.

“Still a little sleepy? Those dryers put everyone out.”

“I guess so.” He tries to perk up. Mentally fighting through the haze of sitting underneath the drone of the dryer for that long.

“Long hair appointments certainly take it out of all the girls. You make sure your girlfriend takes you out to a nice dinner and lets you relax for the evening.”

He giggles, “I’ll probably still have to cook dinner.”

Brittney gives him a look, “Maybe on some other night, but looking this good? After I style your hair, you will want to show the town, girlfriend.”

“I’m practically in rags, but I’m glad my hair will look nice at least.” He quips back.

She gives him a stern look, “Not just nice, pretty. Say it for me.”

Pretty is such an odd adjective, “My hair will look pretty.” He repeats, a blush creeping to his face. How odd to hear that adjective so much.

As she continues on, he can see in his periphery tight ringlets decorating around his chin. They don’t really look like Brad’s, but that’s fine, she probably just needs to work it out a little. He continues to relax to the music and let Brittney pull and twist each one out, relieving the pressure on his skull. They were so tight on there that each release of one feels a bit better than expected.

“You know, this is looking so good on you already. I think I’ve outdone myself. I’ll have to get your picture before you leave today.”

“Whatever you need.” He mumbles.

She continues along, humming to herself, barely audible over his own relaxing music, which seems to be mostly instrumental noise at this point.

“So, once I get these unwrapped, we’re going to trim up the ends, do a little shaping, then I can set you free!”

“Sounds great!”

The last several pieces she unwinds cover his eyes and face, but with his hands holding the box he cannot do much about it.

“Sorry, those are there, don’t worry, they’ll be trimmed in a minute, and we can move them.” She moves turns the chair to face her, tilting his head this way and that, making mental notes and holding up pieces to his cheeks. “So, I want to trim here.”

Snip.

She pulls another piece out.

Snip.

“Let me get this side too.” She moves around him, pulling hair outward,

Snip.

“You’re doing great.”

Snip.

“Now let’s work around your pretty face. We wouldn’t want to hide that away, would we?”

He shakes his head, doing his best to remain still as possible while the scissors hover nearby. Much too close for comfort and definitely too late to turn back now.

“Perfect! So, I’m just gonna work with these pieces, hold your head straight for me, be still.” She leans in front of him, pulling a curl down

Snip.

and doing the same for the next,

Snip.

and once more

Snip.

before letting them spring back up, most of the length now sitting in his lap in a curly pile.

Able to see again, he’s met with a pile of curly hair in his lap, “Umm, was that not a lot?”

“No, honey, it’s perfect, remember: no hiding your pretty face!”

“No hiding my pretty face.” He nods, letting it solidify in his mind.

“It’s a very pretty fringe. That was the hardest part. Now I’m just going to give the rest some shape and get your goodie bag packed.”

He sits and lets her snip away. Moving from curl to curl around his head. She plays with it, letting her hands primp and place each curl. “Gosh, these look so good. You’re going to love them.”

“I hope so!” Nerves striking him and making his tummy feel weird.

She tilts his head this way and that, making sure each angle is perfect, and he’s perfectly content to let her do her what’s necessary, channeling the relaxing music playing softly in his ear. He’s surprised when another woman appears in the doorway.

“Hi Brit, just checking on ya, and who’s this lucky gal?”

Is she talking about him?

Brittney grins, “This is my newest client, she’s the sweetest, sits still just like a doll.”

“Well, isn’t that cute, love the hair too. Big change for you?”

He nods, there was no one else in the room, so she must be talking about him. Odd to be mistaken for a woman. Men probably are not their usual clientele though.

The two chat for a minute, exchanging pleasantries and talking about their clients, but it’s soon lost on him, the music lulling him back downward.

Brittney turns her attention back to him, “Almost done, sweetie. I’m so glad you decided to come in today. Your hair was such a pleasure to work on.”

“Thank you, you know, I used to go to any old barber, but I think I’ll have to come back here next time.” Despite the odd remarks this was certainly nicer than any barber he had ever been too. The large open rooms and blaring sports on the tv had always left his mind numb. In a different way than here, he giggles to himself.

“Yes, no more stinky man hair cuts for you, your hair is too long and pretty for that. Are you ready to see it?”

“That would be wonderful!” All smiles now.

Brittney grins down at him, “Now let’s spin you away from the mirror and we’ll do the big reveal! Ready?’”

“Yep and thank you again!”

“Anytime, beautiful!”

She spins the chair around to reveal a young woman.

Him?

That was him?

His once long hair now sits just under his chin. Tight ringlets layering outward providing volume. Each ringlet was small, and the way they all fell made them neatly layer on top of each other. That’s not the worst part: around his face are several shorter ringlets, curled in such a way that make him look undeniably feminine, his forehead now only covered by minuscule ringlets. His freshly done eyebrows are thin and neatly arched and there is no hiding it because the bangs she permed are hardly an inch long sitting on his forehead.

He is not even sure what he can compare this too, he has never seen a perm like this before, not even in the magazines out front. He looks like one of those girls in a period drama. Did he walk straight out of a Jane Austen novel? He did not know much about trends, but this certainly could not have been the trend. Was he ahead of the trend? That could be nice for a change.

He is not sure what to think, but something new bubbles through his mind, daring him to feel it, to know it’s real. He reaches a hand up, gently lifting the bottom curls: primping. The word comes to mind unbidden. He stops and lets the curl fall back perfectly springy. Mesmerizing him. It is so pretty. It looks wonderful. He should not even touch it, lest it be ruined by his own hands. Something new takes over.

“It looks marvelous, Brittney!” he turns his head this way and that, using his hands to primp at the bottom. “I couldn’t be happier!” Each curl bounces perfectly around him when he moves his head.

The girls giggle at him, and he joins in. Brittney reaches down, plucking her earbuds that she let him borrow. “Looks like you won’t be needing these anymore.”

And if timing could be comical, he looks over to find Kaylee standing in the doorway, smirk plastered on her face, “Wow” she draws out, “look at you!”

He turns away from the mirror, his face heating up, what would she think of this? How could he ever face her as a man again after this? Over some broccoli hair bullshit that Brad said looked cool. His freaking bald spot just needed to be covered and that receding hairline too. This looked nothing like Bradley’s, what had he done?

Maybe she thinks you’re pretty.

No, uh—uh. Not that. Snap out of this. He almost shakes his head to help, but that would make the curls bounce even more so he clamps down internally.

“Brit, you really, really outdid yourself here.” Kaylee breaks the silence after his failure to respond beyond blushing furiously.

Britney plays with his curls, gently spreading then out, it feels so lovely, “Oh, it was no bother, truly. His hair is so perfect, no wonder you told him to not cut any length off of it.”

Kaylee grins at him but isn’t speaking to him, “So, do you make a little goodie bag for this newly minted perm owner here?”

Brittney lights up at the extra sale, “Oh of course! It comes with a locally made bonnet too. One of our girls sews them herself. Let me grab it for you and y’all can pay up front.”

When they’re left alone, he can’t bear to look at her. Staring at the hair that has now settled on the rubber mat below his feet. He feels her play with a curl, and a new feeling bubbles up, but before he can investigate it Brittney returns: “Okay, girls, here we are! A fun little goody bag to help you get started. I left care instructions in there too. See you!”

He avoids looking at the mirror while Kaylee gives him a hand out of the chair. If he were being dramatic, he would let his legs give out from under him. His head could hit the sink, maybe that would save him from this embarrassment? Mulling over ideas of very not-dramatic ends to this situation he is led out of the room, Kaylee’s arm wrapped around his waist, back to the front desk where she pays.

He can’t help but look at himself in the mirror to their left. The one behind the couch he was sitting on some hours ago, he was so naive then. He puts his hand underneath, gently primping each side. It looks pretty—so pretty. He could hardly imagine himself without it now that he has seen it on himself. What did his stringy mess of hair look like before? Surely not this beautiful.

She wants More.

The spell is broken once more when Kaylee grabs his hand and leads him out of the salon.

He sees his reflection again for a split second in the reflection of the door, but it’s gone too quick to appreciate and they are now on the sidewalk, walking towards their car. The evening has a chill in the air. While Spring may be here, Winter had hardly given up. He had been colder than ever this past Winter. Warmer weather could not come soon enough.

Sensing his chill, Kaylee pulls him closer to her, “You have very expensive haircut tastes, Missy.”

He reddens again.

When they get back to the car, she opens the door for him, “After you, milady.” She giggles.

“That’s not funny. It’s a bad haircut.” He whines.

“It’s definitely not a bad haircut; you look so pretty now.” She kisses him on the cheek.

“Not a lady.” He mumbles.

She starts the car after getting in on the driver’s side.

“Well, it seems to me that you have several options.” She flips the visor down, angling so he can see himself in the mirror. So pretty, he reminds himself.

“We could… buzz it off?”

“No!”

She giggles at him, “Okay, not that then, how about we wash it? That will prevent the chemicals from setting to their full potential.”

And lose this? Never.

“No.” He stammers, red in the face, “I think I have to own this.” Still staring at himself. His hands reach up to fluff it a little. Give it some extra oomph!

“Goddess, she got you good huh?” Kaylee murmurs. She leans over slapping the mirror closed.

He snaps out of it again. He almost shook his head trying to work out the weird, unbidden thoughts he was having. He thinks better of it though, as that would definitely tangle the curls. Instead he squeezes his eyes closed for a minute and lets his fists clench before releasing them with a deep breath.

She adds, “I mean, it was so expensive, it’d be wrong to ruin her hard work, right?” Nudging him.

“You’re acting like I wanted to look like this.”

She giggles, “You love it. It’s a perm, you said you wanted one.”

“I meant like Bradley!”

“I think yours is much better than Bradley’s.” She reasons, “If you didn’t love it, you wouldn’t be so apprehensive about undoing her hard work. You can barely stop looking at yourself.”

“Well, I mean,” he sputters, “She cut it like this—so it would like—look weird if we messed it up. That’s what she told me.”

“Uh-huh. It’s okay to say that you like it, you know.”

“No!” he nearly shouts again, he takes a breath to get himself under control, “No it’s not. I mean—look, it makes me look like—I don’t know— a girl!”

“A cute one.” She squeezes his thigh.

He blushes and goes silent, the ambient noise of driving drowning him in his thoughts.

After several minutes, he hears his girlfriend failing to stifle yet another giggle, “I did say to not get a perm that makes you look like a dickhead.”

He glares at her.

“Don’t pout, let’s see how it settles in, perms never look their best on the first day. You gotta let it live in a little. It’ll soften and then you’ll look like one of those pretty, long-haired knights on the front page of a romance novel.”

“That is not who I wanted to look like!”

“You’re right, they’re a bit too gruff and big around the edges, not like you, Princess. You’re in the tower.” She giggles.

That’s not a thought he wants to have, “That’s not any better.” Hiding his face in his hands.

“What if the knight was also a woman?”

He shifts in his seat. Images of hot lady knights rescuing him, from what?

“Really?” She breaks the spell, “That’s the one that got to you?”

She fakes a more masc voice and different accent, “Princess, it is my duty, nay, honor to serve you, and rescue you from this wretched king.” she trails off in a fit of giggles.

“You gotta stop.” He whines. “How am I supposed to explain this to work on Monday?”

“Not sure, but don’t get caught looking in any mirrors.” she laughs.

“What do you mean? I can’t help it!”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart, now don’t forget we need to do your vitamin shot when we get home.”