I sat in his chair, placing myself totally under his control. The roping of muscle in his hands and arms belies the gentleness of his touch. He tilts my head back and thread his fingers through my hair. He tugs enough for me to know he's serious about what he's doing, but never hard enough to hurt me. His fingers massage my scalp placing me in an almost trance-like state. He tips back the chair and warm water covers my scalp. He works his magic. I relax into him, trusting him implicitly. He knows me and my desire. I have complete confidence in him. Finished, he squeezes my long hair while catching my eye in his mirror. He smiles and I see the kindness in his eyes.
"You trust me?" he whispers.
"Of course," I answer.
He takes out his scissors and my eyes widen for a moment before I close them. Silently he goes about his business, transforming me into something new, something fresh.
"There. What do you think, Beautiful?" he asks.
I open my eyes and stare first at the mirror and then the floor.
"Oh my," I respond.
Quinten is not only my hairdresser, but an artist. Somehow, he has just transformed my fuzzy, frizzy mess of hair into lovely, curling, shining locks.
Here's a picture of me on a pirate ship - yep - a pirate ship. The hair's a bit windblown, but still lovely.
Thank you Quinten. You are my hero.
Interested? Quinten works out of Hair Excursions in Edwardsville, Illinois.