This incident happened to me a few months ago. It was late at night, and I was wandering the streets looking for a salon to get a haircut. Most places were already shuttered, but I eventually stumbled upon one that was still open.
When I walked in, I saw a beautiful woman sweeping the floor. She looked up and greeted me with a warm smile. I ran a hand through my hair and told her I needed a cut. She stepped closer, her eyes bright, and said in broken English, "Hair, I can cut. How you want?"
I realized there was a bit of a language barrier, but I was exhausted and desperate to look sharp for a meeting the next morning. I tried to explain my request again, but she simply took my hand, led me to the chair, and ran her fingers through my locks. "No long hair, right?" she asked. Assuming she understood I wanted a trim, I nodded.
She draped the cape around me and began a scalp massage. It felt incredible—so relaxing that my eyes began to heavy. Then, she wrapped a steaming hot towel around my head, and the warmth sent me into a daze. I felt almost unconscious, drifting in and out of sleep. Through my blurred vision, I saw her pull a straight razor from a drawer, but I was too tired to process what was happening.
When she removed the towel, she began applying shaving foam to my scalp. The cold sensation was refreshing, and I figured she was just trying some unique pre-cut treatment. I closed my eyes and let her work. I felt the light, rhythmic scrape of the razor against the back of my head. She was so skilled and gentle that I didn't even realize the hair was being stripped away.
Within minutes, she moved to the front. She applied a cream to my face and whispered, "Sleep, I will clear your head." I thought she meant she was going to wash my hair, unaware that I was already completely bald in the back. I followed her instructions and drifted off again.
She applied more foam to the top of my head and began to shave. I can’t explain how pleasant it felt; it was as if a weight was being lifted from my mind. The sensation of the steel against my skin was strangely hypnotic. For nearly two hours, she meticulously cleared every strand from the top and sides of my head.
Finally, she cleaned my face and tilted the chair up. When I looked in the mirror, I gasped. I was completely bald. My head was so smooth that it actually reflected the salon's overhead lights.
I turned to her, stunned. "What did you do?"
She beamed at me, rubbing her hands over my fresh scalp. "I made it very smooth. You like it?"
There was no point in arguing—the hair was gone, and she wouldn't have understood my frustration anyway. I sighed and told her it was fine. As I went to leave, she stopped me. "Wait!" she said, applying a stinging aftershave followed by a soothing mint lotion that turned the burn into a cool breeze.
As I paid, she handed me a card. "I give body massage, too. Call me if you need."
Walking home, I couldn't stop touching my head. Even though I hadn't planned on a head shave, the experience had been so surprisingly sensual and relaxing that I found myself wondering just how good that body massage would be.
A few weeks later, sitting alone at home and thinking back to that night, I picked up my phone and dialed the number on the card.
What happened next was a complete surprise. Do you want to know the rest?
