Lisa Pomeroy
01-03-2009, 11:31 AM
So we were all alone in the shop, just the two of us, me and Sue, my haircutter of 6 years...I like her. She's very good at her job, and through the years of chatting in the chair I've gotten an idea of who she is...a conventional girl, single and OK with that, into her pygmy horses and her young neices and nephews. I sat in the chair and she put the scratchy paper thing around my neck and the big cape and said something like, "So, same as last month?"
I took the plunge.
"Um...actually, at the risk of making you uncomfortable, I'd like to confide something in you."
"Uh...OK."
"I've recently discovered an interest in crossdressing."
"OK." Polite, auto-response...not really processing yet.
"So, I guess what I'd like, is a haircut which can, you know, go either way. And maybe I need to do my eyebrows differently too."
"Um...OK, well, like maybe we could trim short around the sides, but keep it long on top, and yes, the eyebrows would have to be different...trimmed a lot shorter."
"Yeah, that sounds good."
A slightly strained silence. She bustling, keeping her hands busy. I know her and like her and am honestly concerned that I've burdened her with an unwelcome confidence, so I turn and look her in the face and just ask, "Does that make you uncomfortable?"
She looks me back in the face, her expression serious but not hard. "Yeah, a little. But..."
I, in a rush: "I figure there's no harm in it...I'm not hurting anyone..."
"Yeah, it's your business...no harm in it..."
Another strained silence...more bustling. She's on the other side of me now, getting her scissors. I turn my face to hers again. "Actually, I kinda thought you might find it an interesting challenge...you know, professionally." I laugh self-consciously. "Making an...ambiguous haircut."
She laughs a little too. "Yeah. Not too masculine, and not too feminine."
She starts working. Neither of us speaks. I'm trembling a little. Then she ventures a conversational gambit on some other light topic, standard salon-chair chat. After the first few awkward sentences we find a comfortable rhythm and talk through the haircut, and I realize after a while that she's being looser and freer with me than she has ever been before...it's still just the two of us in the shop...she's laughing, she's showing some attitude, and I also feel freer and find myself saying things like, "Honey, I know exactly what you're talking about." It sounded like, it was, girl-talk. It felt nice.
At the desk after I give her a bigger tip than usual and say just before leaving, "Thanks again for being accepting of my little...revelation."
"Yeah, you're welcome. Like you said, you're not hurting anyone."
"Yeah. I just want it to be no big deal. I mean, how much to people really care about stuff like that in other people's lives, you know?"
"Yeah." Same careful serious but not hard face. Same slight awkwardness. But a little touch of smile too. "See you in four weeks."
"OK, see you. Bye." And then out into the snow-blowing wind.
And I'll tell you what...I dig my new eyebrows. The haircut looks good in drab, and I'm very interested to see the effect next time I dress too. She did a good job.
How 'bout that?
Neatly trimmed Lisa
I took the plunge.
"Um...actually, at the risk of making you uncomfortable, I'd like to confide something in you."
"Uh...OK."
"I've recently discovered an interest in crossdressing."
"OK." Polite, auto-response...not really processing yet.
"So, I guess what I'd like, is a haircut which can, you know, go either way. And maybe I need to do my eyebrows differently too."
"Um...OK, well, like maybe we could trim short around the sides, but keep it long on top, and yes, the eyebrows would have to be different...trimmed a lot shorter."
"Yeah, that sounds good."
A slightly strained silence. She bustling, keeping her hands busy. I know her and like her and am honestly concerned that I've burdened her with an unwelcome confidence, so I turn and look her in the face and just ask, "Does that make you uncomfortable?"
She looks me back in the face, her expression serious but not hard. "Yeah, a little. But..."
I, in a rush: "I figure there's no harm in it...I'm not hurting anyone..."
"Yeah, it's your business...no harm in it..."
Another strained silence...more bustling. She's on the other side of me now, getting her scissors. I turn my face to hers again. "Actually, I kinda thought you might find it an interesting challenge...you know, professionally." I laugh self-consciously. "Making an...ambiguous haircut."
She laughs a little too. "Yeah. Not too masculine, and not too feminine."
She starts working. Neither of us speaks. I'm trembling a little. Then she ventures a conversational gambit on some other light topic, standard salon-chair chat. After the first few awkward sentences we find a comfortable rhythm and talk through the haircut, and I realize after a while that she's being looser and freer with me than she has ever been before...it's still just the two of us in the shop...she's laughing, she's showing some attitude, and I also feel freer and find myself saying things like, "Honey, I know exactly what you're talking about." It sounded like, it was, girl-talk. It felt nice.
At the desk after I give her a bigger tip than usual and say just before leaving, "Thanks again for being accepting of my little...revelation."
"Yeah, you're welcome. Like you said, you're not hurting anyone."
"Yeah. I just want it to be no big deal. I mean, how much to people really care about stuff like that in other people's lives, you know?"
"Yeah." Same careful serious but not hard face. Same slight awkwardness. But a little touch of smile too. "See you in four weeks."
"OK, see you. Bye." And then out into the snow-blowing wind.
And I'll tell you what...I dig my new eyebrows. The haircut looks good in drab, and I'm very interested to see the effect next time I dress too. She did a good job.
How 'bout that?
Neatly trimmed Lisa