I was in a small town in Tennessee, about 40 miles from Nashville. I don't often make sales calls in small towns but this was an exception - a delightful exception as it turned out. I had delivered my last sales pitch of the day and was planning to head back to Music City. As I exited the small factory where I had my presentation I noticed a small hair salon with a sign that read "Brenda's Beautique". A bit of a play on words but pretty snappy, I thought, for a small town. It was nearly five o'clock but the sign on the door said Open and I was in need of a haircut. Being in no particular hurry to get back to the city, I decided to check it out.
I put my sales materials in my car and, loosening my tie, walked across the street. I opened the door and saw a woman about my age - 60ish - sweeping up hair.
"Are you open?" I asked.
"Just barely. What can I do for you?"
"I'd like a shampoo and a hair cut," I said, flashing my best salesman's smile.
She smiled back and said, "I think we can manage that. Take off your coat and get in the chair." As I did she walked to the door and turned around the sign from Open to Closed.
"I'm through for the day after I'm through with you," she said, flashing a big smile. As she walked toward me I took a good look at her. She had a pretty face with big blue eyes, like mine, and shiny silver hair - also like mine but a lot longer. She had what you'd call a "sturdy" figure, rather ample hips encased in blue slacks, and she was wearing a white blouse which contained what appeared to be abundant breasts.
I took off my necktie and she put a towel around my shoulders and a barber's wrap around me. She reached down and pulled a lever on the barber's chair and gently pulled my head down toward a basin. She began to wash my hair, wetting it, inquiring about the water temperature, applied the shampoo and than began to massage it deeply into my hair and scalp.
"That feels wonderful," I said.
"Thank you," she said and continued to massage my scalp.
"You have wonderful hands," I said.
"That goes with the territory."
"Nice territory."
"Thank you," she said as she finished the cranial massage. She proceeded with the rinse, a brief towel dry and then began to cut my hair. We talked about children and grandchildren, where we were from, things like that. She was easy to talk to, very open and friendly. As she cut my hair her breasts would occasionally touch one of my shoulders and I made no attempt to move away. In fact I rather enjoyed the experience and was beginning to develop an erection but it was not visible under the barber's cover I was wearing.
When she finished the haircut she tipped the chair back again, part way, and began to massage my scalp a second time.
"Are you married," I asked.
"Divorced. How about you?"
"The same,' I replied. "I imagine that a handsome woman like you doesn't lack for social life."
"I wish," she replied. "There aren't that many single men my age in this little burg, at least none that I'd care to socialize with."
"That's a shame," I said, "and a terrible waste."
"Thank you," she replied.
"Look," I said, "you're about through here. Could I buy you a drink somewhere?"
"This is a dry county but I'll go you one better," she said. ""I've got some wine in the frig in the back room. If that's the kind of drink you were referring to."
"Well, bring it on."
She removed the barber's cape, shook the loose hair onto the floor and walked into the back room. She returned a few minutes later with an open bottle of chilled white wine and two glasses. She poured the wine and I took my glass, touching it to hers and said, "Here's to good new friends and new experiences."
"I'll drink to that," she said and she did.
Reaching out I grasped one of her hands and gently held it. "This is wonderful service," I said, "easily the most enjoyable hair cut I have ever had."
"This is a first for me," she replied, holding up the wine glass, "at least with a man. Sometimes one of my girl friends drops by and we'll have a drink after work."
"I'm honored to be the first," I said. "I hope we can do this again sometime. You are really a lovely woman."
"You're a handsome man. And you have great hair."
"Thank you. You know what it means when a man my age has a lot of hair on his head, don't you?"
She looked at me quizzically and I continued, "It signifies low testosterone."
"Testosterone is way over rated," she said, with a laugh.
"I would agree," I said. "A little testosterone goes a long way."
She smiled at me and said, "But I judge by the twinkle in your eye and the way that you look at me that you are not entirely lacking in that department."
"I'm glad you noticed. I enjoy looking at you and I believe I have enough in that department. Thank you very much."
