My job takes me to the rural mid-west. I acquire farm land leases for my clients. I deal with farmer, ranchers, county officials and local attorneys. On this one particular assignment I was in a small town, about 1500 population, on a snowy day, in the Dakotas and I needed a haircut. Who would have thought such a simple thing would turn into a weird sex adventure.
While finishing my breakfast at the local dinner I asked the waitress where I could get a haircut. She told me that there were no barber shops in town but there were three women's beauty salons and thought that they all cut men's hair. She continued to tell me that the closest one was up the street. It was actually a beauty salon and used book store. I laughed and so did she.
After breakfast I braved the blowing snow and drove my pickup to the salon. It was a little after 9am but the shop was closed. I turned off my truck and got out to see if their business hours were posted. While reading their posted hours the door suddenly opened and a tall, solidly built, attractive middle aged woman, looked down at me and said, in a firm tone, "Can I help you."
I was a little startled and slightly intimidated. I'm 5'10" with a lean build and weigh 160 pounds and she was at least 2 inches taller and out-weighed me by at least 25 pounds. Those extra pounds weren't fat. She looked sturdy and moved like she was in-charge with an air of confidence and strength.
I struggled to gather my composure and replied, "I was told you cut men's hair."
She looked me over and kept me waiting in the icy winter wind enjoying her advantage over me. I wanted to leave, thinking this was a bad idea but didn't want to seem rude. I felt powerless and I could tell that she knew it and was quietly savoring the moment.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she commandingly said, "Come in. Sit there."
There was a row of 3 chairs in a waiting area within the salon section of the shop. She walked back to a salon station and without a word started to blow-dry her hair. I figured I had interrupted her and that was probably why she was so stern with me at the door. She took her time grooming herself and gave me an occasional glance through the mirror. I wondered if she was trying to gauge my level of frustration. I said nothing and just waited like a little school boy.
"Should I come back later?" I finally asked.
She almost glared at me as if angered by my attempt to hurry her along but said, "Come here."
I got up and slowly approached her, she watched my every move, studying me like I was her prey. When I reached her she turned the salon chair around so I could sit. I sat down and she move closer to the mirror to amply her lipstick.
She looked at me through the mirror and said, "What kind of hairdo do you want?"
She spoke to me like I was a woman. She could have asked, "How do you want your haircut?" but she didn't. I really wanted to leave but what would I say. There were no overt gestures or language to justify my rejection of our newly formed relationship. I thought I'd just come off as over sensitive or weird. In a small town like this the story would be everywhere in a few days. After all this is a beauty salon, ground zero for rumors to take flight.
I replied, "Let's just keep it short and trimmed up, please."
She closed up her lipstick and stepped over to me and with one hand rubbed and massaged my head and said, "You have a nice shaped head. Short hair would look sexy on you."
I let out a small nervous laugh and softly said, "Thanks."
She walked back to her station picked up a comb and scissors and came back to me. She stood behind me and started cutting my hair then she asked, "You aren't from around here, are you?"
I began telling her what I was doing in town, why I was here, when I was going to leave and on and on. I was a nervous chatter box. She would ask a question or two and that kept me going. After a while I realized I was the only one talking so I asked her where everyone else was. She explained that due to the weather almost all her appointments had cancelled.
At some point she stopped to text someone on her phone. They replied and she text back then I thought she made a call but she didn't talk to anyone she left the phone on the counter and came back to work on my hair.
Then out of the blue she asked, "Are you gay?"
We both stopped. I thought what a random question to ask.
I quickly replied, "No. Why would you ask me that?"
While looking at me in the mirror she calmly said, "I had a friend who came here all the time until he moved to California. He was easy to talk to like you. You remind me of him and he was gay."
I quickly shot back, "Well, I'm not gay."
She replied, "Well, don't get your panties in a knot."
She tossed her head back and laughed. I just looked forward trying to think of what to say.
She stepped back and looked at me directly then asked, "But you've thought about it haven't you?"
"About what?" I said, a little defensively.
She gave a naughty little smile and in almost a deep throaty whisper said, "About, being with a man."
I quickly said, "No." and turned from her gaze.
She stood up straight and folded her arms and in a normal voice asked, "I noticed you don't wear a wedding ring. Do you have a girl friend?"
I immediately said, "Yes I do. She is very pretty and we have great sex if you must know."
