"Okay, you can come on over now, Brendan."
Feigning mild surprise, Brendan pocketed his phone and stood. He had been watching the hairstylist sweep up hair from her previous customer as he had pretended to play on his phone, so he had known that she was almost ready for him.
She was quite a sight. Almost as tall as he was, she had a slim, athletic build. The litheness of her body was accentuated by the skin tight grey yoga pants she wore, which didn't leave much to the imagination as she had gone about the business of sweeping. In contrast, her black top was baggy and ruffly. She wore flip flops, which Brendan thought was a little weird, given how messy things got in her line of work, but he supposed that she must not mind getting other people's hair between her toes.
Brendan made his way from the waiting area of the salon toward the hairstylist who had called his name. Jessica, although she went by "Jess". She gestured for him to take a seat as she returned her broom to its place against the wall.
He seated himself, facing the three big, angled salon mirrors as she stood behind him, lightly running her fingers through his hair.
"So, anything different this time, or just the normal trim?" she asked.
"Same as always," Brendan replied with a shrug. He had a pretty low maintenance hairstyle. Until recently, he had always just gone to a cheap men's barbershop downtown for his haircuts. He would never have considered going to a place like this--mostly because the clientele was almost all female and he would have felt painfully out of place. But after his normal place had shut down due to the owner retiring, his girlfriend had suggested that he go to this salon instead--the same salon she went to. So, that was how he had gotten into this.
Jess draped the hair-catching cape over his legs and chest and fastened it around his neck. She continued to toy with his hair, as if she was re-familiarizing herself with its unique properties.
The salon haircut was more expensive than a barber of course, but it had its perks. Case in point, he stole a long glance at his hairdresser as she began snipping at the hair at the back of his head. Her own hair was jet black and flowed past her shoulders in a wave of loose curls. Her fingernails and toenails were similarly black and she always wore lots of dark eyeliner around her dark brown eyes, all of which made for an attractive contrast against her pale white skin. It might have almost looked goth-y, if not for the "comfy athleisure" vibes from her clothing choices. It was kind of an interesting combination. But certainly more appealing than a gruff old man whose breath reeked of chewing tobacco and cheap coffee.
"You have such thick, beautiful hair," Jess stated as she continued to snip.
It was something that she always said to him, but it didn't sound disingenuous. None of Brendan's girlfriends had ever spoken positively like this about his hair, so the compliment filled him with a unique sense of pride.
"So, I haven't seen Amber around in a while," she commented as she worked. That was another benefit to the salon. To Brendan, small talk with a barber about sports or politics was painful to endure. But he had found it much easier to chat about his job, his family or his girlfriend. Or, more precisely...
"We actually broke up," Brendan admitted sheepishly.
"No way!" Jess exclaimed, so shocked that she actually stopped her work. "What happened?"
By now, the explanation had become fairly well-rehearsed in Brendan's brain, as he had told this to friends, family, coworkers...
"She got offered a job somewhere else. Halfway across the country. It was a really great opportunity for her, a position that she had been interested in for a long time. We could have tried to make something work, long-distance, but she wasn't interested in that."
"Well, I'm sorry," Jess said, frowning. "You two seemed so good together."
"Yeah, I know," Brendan replied. This next line was part of the well-worn script too: "but I guess it showed that she just wasn't as into the relationship as I thought she was. Better to learn this now instead of a year or two from now, I guess."
Jess let out a sigh.
"Amen to that," she said spitefully.
That was another thing that Brendan had come to learn about Jess--she had had a husband, a few years back. They had split up, although she had never let on why. From the sound of it, he had done something unforgivably douchey. Cheating? Abuse? She had never specified. To make matters worse, they actually had a kid together. Shaun, if his memory served him correctly, who was about 4-5 years old. They had some complex, ongoing issues with custody.
All of this was so wild to Brendan because Jess did NOT, in any way, look like what he would normally think of when he thought of a "mom". She was just so young-looking--she couldn't be far from his own age, 24. From what he could pick up, this ex of hers had been a high school sweetheart. So, getting married and having a kid at 19-20 would definitely make it possible for her to be a mom in her early or mid 20s. But it was still a crazy detail to her life.
There was an awkward pause in the conversation, but she soon picked things back up again.
"So, the single life, eh? It's Saturday today--got plans tonight with a new lady?"
Brendan chuckled lightly, careful to not move his head too much.
"Not really," he admitted. "I kind of feel like taking things slow for a while."
"I definitely get that," she replied emphatically. "I can't even imagine getting back into things. I mean, right now my life is about getting Shaun ready for daycare, coming to work, picking him up, cooking dinner, cleaning the house, bathtime, bedtime, rinse and repeat."
Brendan hummed in assent, as if he knew at all what this was like.
"So, this weekend, Shaun's with his daddy and his grandmother. All weekend. This practically never happens because he's so damn flaky. I got all that time off. But what can I do? Who wants to date a woman who is only free one weekend every other month?"
Brendan knew that this was a rhetorical question, so he made no attempt to answer it.
"So, how is Shaun doing these days?" he asked instead. This was always an easy topic of conversation. Jess loved talking about her son and, while he had no kids of his own, Brendan didn't mind at all hearing about him.
The rest of the haircut went by quickly. When she was finished, Brendan checked himself out in the three mirrors in front of the salon chair.
"Looks great," he said.
"Great," Jess replied, carefully removing the cape and shaking the hair it had caught onto the floor. "Then come on over and we'll get you washed up."
Brendan stood and followed Jess to the other side of the salon. This was, admittedly, his favorite part of the salon haircut. Seating himself in a soft, low-backed chair, he leaned back to rest his neck on the edge of a specially designed sink. He closed his eyes, to not get any stray drops of water in, and immersed himself in the experience.
Brendan heard the water turn on, but didn't yet feel it on his head. The sound of it splashing against the side of the bowl-like sink was interrupted as the stream met Jess's hand. She was gauging the rising temperature of the water until it was appropriately warm. When it was ready, she pulled the shower wand from its holder to gently spray against his head. Careful to not splash his face, she slowly ran the stream of water back and forth, until his hair was sufficiently wet. The wand made metallic clicking noises as it was returned to its holder. It stayed on and steam rose from the sink, warming the back of his neck.
A soft pumping sound was heard as Jess dispensed shampoo into her hands, which she soon brought to his head, gently massaging into his hair. Her fingernails were long, but not too long--they were long enough to feel very satisfying scratching against his scalp as she alternated between the tough pressure from the nails and the soft pressure of her fingers. The smell of the shampoo, something minty and herbal wafted to his nose. But there was another scent there too. The fruity coconut smell of Jess's own hair, which he could picture hanging down past her shoulders, just inches from his face.
It was a strangely intimate act, having a woman wash his hair. There was nothing inherently sexual about it, but it was definitely a related feeling--having someone else take care of your body for you. And there was something in the way she did it that felt personal, like she knew that what she was doing went beyond that of a simple physical act, like she knew that it made him feel good and she wanted him to feel that way.
Again, the whole experience would have made him more than a little uncomfortable if it hadn't been his own girlfriend (at the time) who had introduced him to it.
Far too quickly, it was over. Her nimble fingers left his scalp and the water returned, washing away the soap. When he heard the water turn off, Brendan opened his eyes and sat up. Jess covered his head with a towel and gently ruffled his hair to dry it.
Brendan ran a hand through his damp, clean hair and looked at himself again in a nearby mirror.
"Looks great," he said again, nodding in approval.
"Alright then. Well, if you'll come up to the desk, we'll get you finished up."
Brendan had to stand carefully, brushing the partial erection he had grown to a less conspicuous position. He hoped that Jess hadn't noticed...
Brendan paid with a credit card, left a generous tip, made an appointment for his next visit in eight weeks, and left the salon.
***
Brendan hadn't been lying when he had told Jess that he had no plans for the evening, despite it being a Saturday night. Some of his friends were going out for dinner and drinks at a restaurant that had just opened, but it was almost an hour away and he had declined the offer. Microwaved pizza rolls and Netflix were the only items on his agenda.
So, it was a little weird when, around 9:00, his phone buzzed with a text message. It was from a number that wasn't in his contacts, but when he looked at it, he saw that it was the phone number of the salon--previous text messages from them had just been automated reminders about upcoming appointments. But this one was different.
