The Hair Stylist
"Hey!" a woman's voice greeted me.
I stopped sipping my ice coffee and looked at the direction from which the voice came. A mature woman in her mid 40s of about 1.6 m height with medium build was standing about 10 m in front of me. She wore a black tank top with a pair of denim mini shorts which were so short that her tank top almost covered them. I immediately recognized her.
"Hello!" I greeted her back.
"Why are you here?" she asked me. "Don't you live three stations away from here?"
"Just walking around! Breathing fresh air," I said to her.
It was maybe 11 pm and I left my home about 1 hour ago just to clear my mind. Work had kept me busy from Mondays to Fridays. Some more, I and my wife didn't get along very well. We didn't quarrel, but there was no more spark in our marriage. We had a kid, so divorce required really careful consideration if it was possible at all. So, we lived under the same roof, but our relationship had become formal and platonic. Somehow, I felt that I was trapped. Our marriage had been sexless for the past 1 year and I didn't really see that it would get better anytime soon. Thinking about this always let me down. Today was no exception and so, I took a walk to clear up my mind.
"You're alone?" she asked me.
I nodded. Her name was Belinda. She was a hair stylist. I knew through our usual conversation during haircut session that she stayed in the area, but I never met her here before. Her neighbourhood hair salon was just one train station away from here. I always went to her hair salon for my regular hair cut. I didn't know her exact age, but I guessed that she was probably 10 to 15 years older than me. I myself was in my mid 30s.
I always enjoyed her hair cut service. However, I had to admit that I probably did so because she never failed to give me a hard-on. There were two other ladies in the hair salon, but she had the best dress sense and figure. She always wore high heels and sleeveless top with either mini skirt or mini shorts. When cutting my hair, she would often lift up her arms giving me a show of her smooth sexy underarms and sometimes a glance at her cleavage as well. She was a little plump with C-cup boobs and curves at the right place. Her boobs were firm and not saggy.
"You drink coffee at night?" she asked me.
"I'm a coffee guy. I drink four to five cups per day," I replied. "You haven't slept at this time?" I asked her.
"Nah! Same as you! I'm looking for some fresh air. It's very boring upstairs."
"You lived in this block?"
"No! That one!" she pointed to the block of apartments just about 100 meters away.
"I see," I said. I suddenly felt awkward. I didn't know what to talk to her here and now. Usually, conversation would flow smoothly during my hair-cut session, but meeting her outside that hair salon somehow felt different. "Your family has already slept?" I just tried to ask some random question.
"Oh, I don't live with my family. They live in Telok Blangah," she said, referring to the southern part of Singapore. "I live with a friend, but she's in Malaysia now."
"I see."
"Your family's not looking for you? A bit strange that you're roaming around here at this hour!" she asked with a smile.
We now were walking together side by side casually.
"No, they've already slept! They always sleep early, but I'm a night person," I said.
Without realizing it, we arrived at her apartment block.
"I'm going up now! Where are you going next?"
"I don't know. Maybe, I'll just continue to walk around here!"
"Do you wanna take a look at my home?" she asked.
I looked at her, a little surprised with her offer. Nevertheless, I nodded. We entered the lift and she pressed the number 5. It was really quiet. Bukit Panjang was a residential area in the north west of Singapore and, it was relatively more quiet compared to other areas such as Boon Lay or Orchard where industries and shopping centres were located.