My Hot Stylist and Me

Do you know that getting a haircut could be such an erotic experience? That is, if you have the right place and the right stylist. And that would rule out your local Indian barbershop.

It is that time of month again when I go visit my new happy place – Jantzen, Mid Valley. You’d probably remember a month ago I story-story about it a little when I said I went for a haircut and then I met Hadi and Ewok at McD,and yada, yada, yada. Anyway, what I didn’t tell you was that when I went for my haircut afterwards, I was fated to meet the hottest hairstylist I’ve ever known.

Usually, when the girl at the counter asks me, ‘Any particular stylist?’, I will answer, every time without fail, ‘Anyone will do,’. But not anymore. Now, my answer to that question will be a shorter, simpler version. One word, one name – Abby.

Abby is hot, for one thing but with her being a hairstylist, she has this funky, Avril Lavigne-esque vibe about her. Which just increases her hotness rating. And what’s more, she smells great. Kinda like baby shampoo. Makes you wanna cuddle her to bed.

But what I like most about my hot new hairstylist is that she has this delicate touch. Unlike the lady who washed my hair. That one almost tore my scalp off. But Abby, she caresses my head. And when her finger slid across my forehead, it felt so soothing and tingling. Also, she has this thing where she moves about in very close proximity with her customers when she’s doing her job. So I get a lot of brushes from her hip, from now and then. And did I tell you she smells great?

But the cherry on top was when she massaged my head near the end. It felt so good I almost moaned her name out loud. Of course, when it (the haircut) finally finished, I felt sad about leaving. My wish at the time was that if only my hair would grow fast enough so that I can have a haircut every week. And as if to cheer me up, after paying for her services, she said, ‘I’ll see you next month,’ with a smile so mischievous and naughty only Nicole Kidman can pull. I mean, like, wow. I’ve only been with her twice and she already recognizes me and knows my routine. I felt so happy.

Haih, I’m having an affair with my hairstylist. I mean, I only know her first name, she doesn’t know mine. We meet once a month, have an hour to ourselves and go our separate ways. The next month, we do it all over again. I mean, what? It’s only about the haircut.