I met Elizabeth in an interesting sort of way. I was shopping for a suit
in one of the high end department stores at the mall. Looking through the
section labeled in my size, settling on a nice plain gray I heard a voice
say; "I think you'd look much more striking in the navy blue..." and as I
turned to see who was offering comment I was completely taken aback at her
appearance. If you've ever seen those Ralph Lauren ads in the magazines
you'd swear you were looking at Elizabeth's picture... Lonnnnggggg brown
hair the color of a perfect espresso, big blue eyes framed by trendy wire
rimmed glasses, beautiful smile, white silk blouse, navy blazer, wool
tartan skirt all wrapping around a perfect size 5 body.  O.K., O.K. so it
wasn't really the first time I'd met Elizabeth. A few months earlier I had
been conducting a sales training seminar for retail sales people and
Elizabeth happened to be one of the participants. We had flirted a bit at
break time, but me being the insecure guy around women that I am, I
definitely classed her as way outside my league. (And besides, what about
that LONG hair? Not really your type Michael...)

So there she stood, smiling, suggesting navy blue while I stood there with
mouth obviously open... She laughed and directed me to the navy. We
chatted all during the fitting while the tailor did his level best to keep
me looking forward instead of down at Elizabeth. Mustering all the nerve I
had, I asked her what time she finished work and if she would join me for
a glass of Cabernet at a local cafe. She cheerfully accepted my invitation
and...

You know the best thing about her long hair was when we made love and I
lifted her on top of me it hung down around my face and chest and tickled
me in the most delightful way. I actually loved to bury my face in it and
wrap it round us both while in the most intimate positions. 

And then came the night when, rolling over, she was laying on her hair and
screamed when it pulled as she moved; "one of these days I swear I'm going
to whack this mess off with a butcher knife and be done with it." Needless
to say I stopped in my tracks when she said that. To this time I had not
revealed my hair cutting obsession and for whatever reason I didn't do it
then either. But the seed was planted...

I began to fantasize about taking her to my haircutter and directing the
clipping of this beautiful woman. I visualized her at shoulder length in a
sleek Lauren Bacall bob... chin length in a severely buzzed and inverted
flapper crop... buzzed sides and back with little ringlets on top... close
brushy crew-cut and me cradling her head in my hands as we made love. I
was obsessed!!!

A few weeks later while having dinner I finally broached the subject of
hair with her... I referenced her comments from before and asked if she
had ever seriously considered having her hair cut shorter. (I may have
forgotten to give you all that description; Elizabeth's hair hung in loose
ringlets to about 5 inches below her waist.) She surprised me by saying
she had considered it many times but because it was so long had always
been afraid of the radical difference it would make. And besides she
thought all men loved long hair. I have to admit, as a loyal short hair
fanatic, I loved her hair and the thought of it being scissored and shorn
was both happily exciting and scary. I had always been definite in my
preference for  cropped hair but this time I wavered. Finally I said, "I
love short hair on women!!" Surprising me again she smiled and asked for a
quarter; "What's the name of that place where you get your hair cut? Do
you think Chrissie is in now?" My stomach did a slow roll and I felt the
blood drain from my face (it was obviously rushing elsewhere). I looked at
my watch, noted that it was about 6:15 and said that Chrissie usually
leaves at about 5:00. (Chrissie is a whole different story; petite blonde,
always wearing her clothes about a size too small and acting for all the
world as if she didn't know it. Chrissie wore her hair in a spiky crew
with long texturized bangs that she kept flipping out of her eyes when she
bent over to cut hair. If you had to pick someone she resembled most; try
Meg Ryan, although Chrissie was actually cuter. Chrissie was not only a
cosmetologist but also a barber and she was quite proud of how she handled
the tools of the barber's trade. She loved to cut hair! Chrissie and I had
dated a couple of times and had found that we were just not each other's
cup of tea... She was a wild one and though I would better appreciate it
now I just couldn't keep up with the "9 1/2 Weeks" flavor she gave to the
relationship. We parted amicably and now she loved it when I could talk
one of my current partners into letting her ply her craft on their
unsuspecting head.)

So here I was torn between the beauty of Elizabeth's hair (on her head)
and the beauty of Elizabeth's hair (on the floor at Chrissie's). I reached
in my wallet and pulled out Chrissie's card and handed Elizabeth a quarter
for the phone. Bet you don't know where this is going, eh? 

Of course Chrissie was there and was actually just packing up to go. She
had spent and hour and a half too much on one of the "blue ladies" as she
called the older women who thought she was just darling and how she would
make a perfect match with their son, nephew, second cousin, whatever...
But this time the perm turned out to be not what the woman wanted and
Chrissie had spent the extra time straightening the perm and hoping her
hair didn't just crisp and crumble like overcooked bacon. I could tell
Chrissie was trying to beg off and then Elizabeth said the magic words;
"Michael thinks you do the best job on short hair!" Hearing one side of
the conversation... Space... "Yes he's right here with me now" Space...
"Of course he's coming with me, I wouldn't do this by myself"... Space...
"You will, Great!" "We're on our way!" "She's waiting for us, Michael,
isn't that sweet?" Uh-oh, I could just see Chrissie's little wheels
turning.

My, my, my... This is another fine mess you've gotten yourself into
Michael... You know what I was thinking right at that minute? I liked
Elizabeth, I loved sex with Elizabeth, I even liked to talk to her most of
the time... But could I last through a grow-out when she had cut her hair
just because I liked short hair. I quickly found out how much I had
underestimated Elizabeth (by the way you never, ever call her anything but
Elizabeth; not Liz, Ellie, Betty, Beth, Liza... never ever.) She was more
excited than I had ever seen her and said that she had thought about this
for a long time and really didn't even need moral support from me. She
couldn't wait to be free of the bondage of lengthy shampoos, conditioners,
comb outs, curling irons, etc., etc. I was pretty much speechless as she
took my hand and we headed off to see Chrissie.

Sometimes I really miss L.A. (like when I think of this story). Chrissie's
shop was within a stone's throw of the Century Plaza Hotel in Century City
and was one of the most recommended in the area. At the time it was done
up in retro barbershop motif; black and white checkered floor, 1950's
barber chairs, all set off by the decadence of '80's gilt chic wherever
you looked. The place dripped of money. Sometimes I really miss the '80's
(like when I think of all the money we spent then). In the stark
fluorescence, Chrissie stood out like a beckoning angel, albeit one
possessed of very earthly charms. She was wearing her signature; jeans
(remember designer) and tank top.  And she was alone in the shop (surprise
again, he said with tongue in cheek).  Welcoming us back she said, "Hi
there Elizabeth... And Michael (with a glance)." What was she thinking?
Angling her chair in Elizabeth's direction she waved her in like one of
those guys with the flashlights who guide your plane in at the airport. 

As Elizabeth sat down in the chair, Chrissie scooped up her hair and swept
the cape around her... "You've got such beautiful hair, why in world would
you want to cut it? (Chrissie liked to play little games like this before
she went in for the kill. She liked to yo-yo certain clients back and
forth until they were nearly ready to back out of a serious change and
stick with a trim." She ended this discussion with; "Oh never mind that,
it's only hair, it'll grow if you don't like it and besides it will look
very sexy on you, won't it Michael?" I nodded with all the conscious
recognition of the little dog whose head bobs in the back window of
certain Chrysler New Yorkers on Interstate 40. I was incapable of rational
response. 

"How short do you want to go?"... "Short..." "An inch, two, what?" "Long
top and short like yours on the sides and  back" My body sunk into the
chair I had pulled up close and I desperately tried to hide the swelling
that had begun to overtake my chinos... Chrissie saw what I was doing and
smiled at me.

Chrissie loved to use the clippers but I had always seen her start this
kind of cut with a shampoo, comb out and scissors to pare it down to a
reasonably manageable length before using them. This time however she told
Elizabeth that since she was going so short that she would do the whole
cut dry to save precision clipping time for the end product. With that,
she picked up the trusty Osters, clipped in the rough blade and  holding
the hair on the left side of Elizabeth's head straight out, clicked them
on and went at it. The soft whirring of the Osters was hypnotic and helped
to further lull me into a semi-trance state. She turned them blade side
down and sliced through the thick ringlets clipping off 24 inches of hair
and unveiling the hint of Elizabeth's ear through the locks that remained.
She continued this process working slowly around Elizabeth until plait
after plait of soft brown ringlets had gathered in a circle around the
chair where Chrissie worked. Elizabeth was very still and I couldn't tell
if she was going to cry or what... She reached out from under the cape,
plucked her glasses from the counter and placing them on her face checked
the progress. She smiled! She reached up and ran her fingers through the
rough cut ear-tip bob. "I love it!! Keep going..." Chrissie mussed
Elizabeth's crop and gently ran her fingers back through her hair from
temples to nape... Knowing Chrissie, this was an overtly sexual move aimed
directly at me. It missed though and hitting Elizabeth, I could almost
hear her purr as she angled her face to the light and slightly arched her
back.

Chrissie changed blades and with clippers and comb began to taper
Elizabeth's hair... up and down the nape, up and down the sides... working
with smooth, cool efficiency she had soon bared Elizabeth's ears and was
actually giving a slight scalp fade around the ears and in the back.
Elizabeth was gorgeous in her transformation; long, elegant neck, small
but beautifully shaped ears (she'd now be able to show off the diamond
dangles I'd bought her without pulling her hair back.) And her eyes...
they leaped right out of her face! 

Putting the finishing touches to the new Elizabeth, Chrissie took her to
the back where the shampoo bowls were to wash off the strays and make the
hair fresh for the final blow dry... After what seemed like too long I got
up and walked to the back to see what was taking so long. Walking slowly
around the corner I caught sight of two women so engrossed in one another
that I could have detonated an atom bomb and they would never have noticed
me standing there. Chrissie was bent over Elizabeth at the shampoo bowls
and was slowly running her tongue back and forth over Elizabeth's freshly
shaved nape.  I quickly walked back to my waiting chair and tried to
compose myself.

The ladies walked out of the back looking pretty certain I had no idea
what had gone on in the back. But Chrissie's unmistakable blush gave her
away completely.  Chrissie turned on the dryer and began to style
Elizabeth's new cut. She was beautiful, better than I had even imagined. A
touch of spray on the finished product  and voila! I paid Chrissie, tipped
her well and gave her a knowing glance at which she blushed again. With
that I led a totally new woman from the bright lights of the salon into
the cool evening of the Westside. I miss L.A., I really do... (Especially
when I think of those sparkling buildings, flashing diamonds and
Elizabeth's eyes)

Thanks Sally... MiraclMike