"Hi Patti. Well, am I Jason's romantic desire?"
She responded, "Abby, I don't know yet because we decided to go in another direction. Let me get right to the point. Jason went on a date with Megan yesterday, even after he told me Jaime was his choice. "
I paused then asked coyly, "so what does that have to do with me?"
"We got a camera crew to record part of their date. We also thought to have Jason go on real dates with all of you, then choose who he wants to go out with again."
"More like an episode of Love Connection," I declared.
"I guess you can say that. Anyhow, are you interested? I know it is not what you thought, but he promises a great time."
"Sure. If nothing else, I will have more to write about in my blog and for a potential magazine article."
"That is true. Oh, and how do you like your hair? Jason also bribed me with a big charity donation for a dramatic chop. It is almost as short as yours."
"Wow, I never would have thought you would do that. I really like mine, and it's so easy. I take ten fewer minutes in the shower, and I just apply a little gel for some style. Also, I am getting lots of compliments, but one of my older neighbors suggested I look like a pretty version of Howdy Doody with a buzz cut. I had to Google that reference. She was right with my freckles and red hair, well what's left of it. Send me a picture of you." In less than a minute I had a text from Patti on my phone. "Nice ears. You look great."
"Thanks. Have a great time with Jason," Patti said as we hung up.
Jason called about an hour after that. "Hi Abby, Patti told me she spoke with you about going out this week. And that you were up for a good time with me."
"I am sure you won't disappoint me. What and when do you have in mind?"
He responded, "I recall from your profile you played golf in college at Rollins, and your team won an NCAA championship. "
"We did, but I was injured the end of that year, so I did not play in the championship. But I did play pretty well the previous year, when we came in second."
"That must have been really exciting. Do you still play?"
"Not enough, like most of us." Jason laughed along with me. "But I am always willing to go out for a round."
"I won the foursome at Winged Foot that I bid on at the charity event, but that stuffy club won't be conducive to having Destin and a cameraman playing with us. I called in a favor with the pro at Bethpage, and I can get us out on the Black course on Tuesday at 11. I checked the weather, and it will be perfect, 80 and sunny."
"Awesome. I can take an Uber out there."
"Don't be silly. I will pick you up at 8. We will have plenty of time to eat and hit a few balls before the round. You live on East 4th, right? One last thing, do you want me to arrange caddies. No carts allowed on the Black."
"That is fine. Or maybe we just get pull carts. Destin and his cameraman will also need them." I suggested.
"Ok, that will be easier."
"Great! Call me Tuesday morning. When you get here, I will come down."
I had not played much golf this summer, and I felt a bit rusty. I thought about grabbing a few clubs and going to Chelsea Piers to hit a bucket or two of balls, but I had to write a blog post about "Wonder Woman." I saw the movie the previous week and had been struggling for a fresh point of view other than how much I liked it, and how Gal Gadot killed it as the lead. Not only did she look the part, but she brought the character an innocent resoluteness that had me easily rooting for her.
My hand stroked my hair, as I thought about how the director focused on Gal's locks flopping around as she ran across the battlefield. She surely does not get referenced with Howdy Doody. I finished the blog and posted it by 4PM. I decided to shake off the rust. I called Kat to meet me at the range at 5:00.
Kat was one of my New York friends. She was more up for dinner or a movie, than to hit golf balls. So, I had to bribe her with the promise of ample glasses of wine, once we finished. Since we were going out after the range, I put a dress, shoes, and some make up in my bag. I grabbed a driver, a 6-iron, and my pitching wedge from my golf bag and walked out of my apartment
Rather than hailing a cab, I decided for some exercise and walked to the range at Chelsea Piers on west 20th St. Enjoying the sun on my now almost bare head I was not aware of all the stares from the people I passed, until it seemed like everyone turned around for a second look. Living in New York I had gotten used to this daily attention, but not to this degree wearing a plain pair of shorts and a shirt. I realized it must have been the hair, so I decided to experiment. I would try to count the obvious stares with an exposed head for the first 15 minutes, and then I would put on my hat for the final 15 minutes and count the difference. I registered and smiled back at thirty qualified leers and ogles from both men and women upon reaching Union Square, the midpoint of my walk. On the second half I counted only about a dozen, so I guess my new haircut did attract lots of attention.
Once inside Chelsea Piers I paid for a golf card and waited a few minutes for a tee slot to clear. I inserted the card into the reader and automatically a ball appeared teed up ready for me to hit. I had to knock it down onto the matt to hit the wedge I was holding. After a few more pitches my phone rang. "Where are you?" asked Kat.
"Near the middle with a yellow shirt and tan shorts," I responded.
Kat walked up behind me, "holy shit!" she exclaimed. "What happened?" She rubbed the back of my head, as I handed her the driver. "I used to rub Dave's head all the time after he got a haircut," she added.
As Kat slipped off her heels she whacked at the balls in her tight skirt, which made for a few very awkward swings and even worse results. After a few more flails she stopped hitting. She listened, as I detailed the events that happened yesterday at Patti's and about the plans for tomorrow with Jason. She handed me back the driver and asked a very pointed question, "Is this new look worth $3000?"
I launched two balls into the net 200 yards away, and then responded, "Definitely! I covered rent. It's so easy, and I like all the attention. Also, I have so much more to write about." I paused for a moment trying to read her face. "Did I say I am going to be on TV?" Kat looked at me waiting for something else. "Seriously, I have no regrets. Besides, when I get tired of maintaining this buzz, I will grow it out."
I hit the last ball and went to the bathroom to change. I put on the short navy a-line and the flips I packed in my bag. I spent a few minutes spiking up my flattop, putting on a pair of hoop earrings, and applying a little eye makeup and lipstick. Upon exiting Kat exclaimed, "Wow! You do look very hot." Let's go to Slate Billiards to win a few glasses of wine and some dinner from a couple of horny dogs.
We walked a few blocks towards 6th Ave. Usually, we would both get our fair share of attention, but tonight most of the eyes and the few comments were directed towards me. Kat blurted out, "If we pass a men's barbershop, I will have the guy chop off my mop. You seem to be getting all the attention."
"You wouldn't dare cut it short. And how will David respond to that, when he comes back from London next week?"
"Fuck him. He told me this morning he got reassigned to London for another two years. He lamented it was too big an opportunity to pass up, blah, blah. Then he said we should take a break because he knows I can't move there with my career. Damn right! I won't move there. I just made partner, my family is here, and my best friend just shaved her head." Kat started to cry. I opened my arms for her, she rested her head on my shoulder, and we laughed through her tears. Kat reached up and stroked my naked nape. Her fingers gradually found the top of my head, and she took her time playing with almost every hair on my head. "That's it. I am ready to move on, and we are starting at a barbershop right now."
I redirected our route to a place I knew on 22nd St. It was a classic shop with three red leather chairs. Two of the barbers had customers, but the third looked at me. "Did I give you that cut? That is a flattop I would be very proud of."
"No, I got this the other day, but you can give my hairline a touch up." I hopped up into the chair.
"Hi, I am Sal. And what is your name?"
"Abby. And that is Kat." Sal fastened a cape around my neck, and Kat took a seat watching me intently. Sal spread warm shaving cream around my hairline. He deftly wielded the straight razor from my right ear around my nape to me left ear. He wiped away the excess cream leaving a hairless area about a half inch higher than Marcel did. Sal then used some more gel, and really had my flattop on edge. He unclasped the cape, and I slid off the chair.
Kat jumped up with more conviction than I thought she had, and she took my place in Sal's chair. "I can't go quite as extreme as Abby given my job, so take off as much as possible but still looking professional." I prepped my phone to record her hair transformation from a curly mop to a short pixie.
"I can do that," Sal responded to Kat's request. He used the scissors to cut off curl after curl on Kat's head. He then fixed a guard on the clipper and buzzed the back of her head and around her ears. He tapered the rest of her hair up to the crown. Where I had exposed skin and slight fuzz, she had a more conventional half inch. Sal left some length on the top, but he made it asymmetric by cutting the left side a little shorter. He used the blow dryer to remove her excess hair and to structure the top with some product.
All the while Kat kept her eyes closed waiting for Sal to finish. He tapped her on the shoulder, as he removed the cape. She opened her eyes and her jaw dropped. "Holy shit!" she exclaimed. She liked that expression.
I immediately expressed, "You look awesome. Edgy, yet professional. Don't worry. You can always grow it out."
"No, I love it. If I did not have to go to court on occasion, I would go much shorter. And maybe I will at some point anyhow. Let's get out of here. I need a drink."
I paid Sal, and had him snap a few photos of us for me to post. We left feeling like two free spirits just looking to have a fun night. I decided to text Jason one of the pictures that Sal took. We walked to Slate getting the requisite stairs from the people we passed. About a block away I got a text back from Jason.
