Scissor happy stylist knows best by Seb

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This Story was posted on the TheNylonCape webside a few years ago.
Since this side isn´t online anymore, I wanted to reissue this story on this side.
Love to talk about such haircut fantasies, so feel free to text me to sebelu@gmail.com
Hope the author does not mind that this story does reissue here.

It was a rainy afternoon when I first walked by Unique Salon. It was a well lit salon at the ground floor of an office building. I was walking home when I saw the sign ahead. It was a typical store sign with a chalk board which read "Hey handsome! Need a haircut? :)"

The sign made me chuckle, I like a good sense of humor. As I came near the first salon window I slowed my pace down until I could easily be overtaken by an old man with a stick. I tried to casually peek inside the salon to see what was going on. The interior of the salon was a mixture of deep red walls and a hard wooden floor. The 7 black leather pump chairs filled the small salon nicely. I imagine it would be quite cramped if every chair would be filled with a client.

On this weekday nearing dinner time, there were only 5 people present in the salon. Two stylists were working on their clients and one lady was standing at the small desk in the middle of the salon.

I had passed the salon and my heart rate had increased. I also had sweaty hands, and butterflies in my stomach. For some reason I felt very attracted to this salon.

I stopped in my tracks and contemplated if I should turn around and have another look. I wasn’t sure but then I had an even bolder idea, why not quickly step inside with a good excuse so I could see what I was dealing with here.

Scissor Happy stylist works in a cozy salon.
Cozy salon with big black leather salon chairs.

With a few deep breaths I got my nerves under control. I turned around and started walking towards the salon entrance. When I opened the door a loud bell announced my visit. This loud noise almost made me jump. I was having a hard time keeping my nerves and emotions under control, being in this hostile environment.

The curvy lady who was on the phone earlier was now typing away on the computer until she looked over at me, almost questioning me with her eyes.

I made my way down the 3 steps at the entrance and moved myself towards the reception desk.

"Hi there, what can I do for you today?" the friendly curvy lady asked me with her dark brown penetrating eyes.

I had not really thought of an excuse beforehand but I came up with something rather fast. "Oh… do you take walk ins?"

"We sure do!" The tall woman in her early 30s said quite loudly as she turned to her computer to look for a gap.

"Oh no I just meant in general, not right now…" I quickly added.

"Hmm okay? Well yes we do take walk ins." Her eyes locked onto me.

"Okay thank you."

I awkwardly turned around and made my way outside.

This salon had something. From the moment I set foot on those hardwood floors I felt cast under a spell. I was no longer in control of my thoughts or emotions, they were all up in the air for grabs. This was definitely a place I would not be able to stop thinking about.

**

A few weeks went by in which I walked by this small deep dark red salon on that busy street several times. I would often walk the extra block just so I could have a peek inside.

This wednesday afternoon was no different. I walked by the salon and had a good peek inside. Unfortunately the chair that was right in front of the window, isolated from the rest of the cutting action, was never occupied. It seems to be a chair that people get put in to wait for their color to process or something similar.

I couldn’t shake the thought of getting my hair cut at this salon though, it kept popping up in my head. As if my girlfriend, Britt, could have read my mind that night she announced my appearance could use some improvement. I tried explaining to her that I wanted to grow my hair out. She wasn’t impressed.

"Just because you are growing it out doesn’t mean you don’t have to take care of your hair."

"I take care of my hair." I said awkwardly as I reached for my hair with my right hand.

"Oh yea? When was the last time you had it cut?" Britt challenged me.

She got me there, it must have been at least 3 months and my hair was covering my ears, almost reaching my chin in the front. My collar was long gone, covered by my long dark blonde hair.

"Exactly, you don’t even remember. Just get a trim, that’s the way to keep it healthy."

The conversation ended with me finally caving in. I agreed to a small trim to keep my hair healthy.

I had these butterflies stuck in my stomach, thinking off going to that salon for a trim. For some reason my gut was trying to warn me, but my girlfriend’s mind was made up, I needed a trim.

That night I went online to read up on some reviews of the Unique Salon. It had a large number of reviews who were in general all positive. People loved the haircuts and the service they received. Out of the 25 reviews, only 2 of them were really negative.

Jayne â€" 2 stars
This is by far the worst haircut experience I’ve ever had! I was supposed to get my usual stylist but she was sick. I should have walked away but I got offered a replacement which would also be cheaper. I decided that I did need the haircut so I went with it… Cindy was the stylist I got, and oh my god… was she scissor happy! I simply requested a trim and she cut at least 4 inches off! How is that a trim? That’s a big cut. When I told her it was too much she simply stated "It will grow back." I love this salon but whatever you do, don’t go with Cindy! She is a crazy scissor happy stylist!

That didn’t sound good. Though Jayne still was impressed by the salon, just not Cindy. I made a mental note to go with a different stylist in that case. The next negative review was very similar to the first.

Daisy â€" 1 star
Absolutely the worst trim I have ever gotten! When I asked Cindy for a trim I lost at least 5 inches! Never coming back here again. I called the salon later to complain and they offered to come back in to get it fixed. How do you fix cutting 5 inches off?! My advice? Don’t go there, save your hair and dignity!

Daisy definitely had a bad experience, that was for sure. But the rest of the reviews were positive and I just couldn’t stop thinking about this small cozy salon. I needed to at least step in there again. I could just walk in, ask for a good stylist and then get a trim. Problem solved.

I smiled as I went over this plan in my head. I could keep my long hair, get to experience this new salon and please my girlfriend by going for a trim. It would be a good day tomorrow!

**

The day started early for me as I woke up with butterflies in my stomach. I was already getting nervous for my trip to that special salon I’ve walked by so many times now.

Once I showered, had breakfast and did a little bit of work I headed out. It was a nice bright spring day. It was about a 20 minute walk to the salon from our place. The first 10 minutes I walked in my normal fast pace. Then as I hit about halfway I started getting a little bit nervous again. It was really going to happen today, I would end up in a salon chair, under a nylon cape, receiving a trim. Just the thought gave me the shivers.

In the distance I already saw the salon sign on the sidewalk. Today it read. "You only look as good as your hair. Come in today!" What a weird statement on the sign, what did they mean with that? It didn’t matter by this time I was only meters away from the entrance of the salon.

At my slow pace I kept walking, even though I saw the door from the corner of my eyes now, I kept going straight. I peeked over my shoulder as I walked by the salon. I could see a total of two stylists working at the occupied chairs. On the sofa sat two women who seemed to be awaiting their turn.

I reached the end of the block before I slowly turned around to make another pass to the salon. Should I go in? It seemed busy today… well it was a Saturday after all, so that was to be expected. These thoughts kept flowing through my head as I approached the salon again. With my slow pace I looked inside and still spotted the two ladies sitting on the couch. The same receptionist as who I talked to last time was standing behind the desk looking at the computer screen. She had long dark dyed hair with dark brown eyes. She was tall and curvy, and looked a little intimidating.

As I was staring inside, the receptionist looked up from the computer screen and our eyes met. The immediate outburst of sweat under my arm pits was not be ignored. The thought of her staring at me after my previous visit to ask about the walk ins, I felt as if she knew I wasn’t telling the truth that time.

The large curvy lady in her early 30s kept looking at me. She had to recognize me, so what should I do now? I couldn’t just walk by now and hope to step in later, that would look weird, right? It was almost like my body took over and put the control system to auto pilot. Slowly my legs started turning so I was now aligned towards the door. I looked over my shoulder to have another peek inside. I saw the receptionist who was still observing my movements.

As I pushed the door open the loud bell announced my visit. I didn’t dare to make eye contact with the receptionist for the first few seconds inside. My legs took me down the 3 steps to the salon floor and brought me immediately in range of the reception desk.

"Hi there, how are you?" The receptionist asked me in a friendly tone.

"Uh good… you?" I returned meekly.

"Excellent! How can I help you today?"

"Oh I was just in the neighberhood and wondering…"

"If we take walk ins? I remember! And yes, we still do." The receptionist said with a little hint of irony in her voice.

She kind of caught me off guard there. I should have asked who was available, not if they took walk ins, I already knew that!

"What stylist is available today?" I tried.

The receptionist was tapping on her keyboard as she asked. "Your name?"

"Rian."

She turned back to her computer screen.

"How long is the wait? A friend of mine got cut by a friendly blonde and I was wondering…." I tried to sound natural.

The receptionist was not really paying attention to my question. She stepped away from the desk towards me.

"Alright Rian, can I take your jacket?"

I quickly zipped down my jacket and handed it to her as she hung it up.

This was not going according to plan. I didn’t have a chance to ask for a stylist, this was a vital step of the plan to make sure I wouldn’t end up like Daisy and Jayne from the reviews I read last night, with scissor happy Cindy.

"Come with me and we will get you started."

The receptionist walked towards the side of the salon where there were three leather salon chairs set up. Two of these chairs were filled with clients and their stylists.

The receptionist spun the vacant chair towards me.

"Have a seat!"

I meekly sat down and put my feet on the iron footrest.

With a smooth swing I was turned back towards the mirror. The receptionist immediately pulled a big dark red nylon cape from the storage unit next to the mirror. She flicked the garment into the air and let it settle on my body. She pulled the dark red nylon towards herself so it slowly captured me until the dark red nylon cape hit my neck. The tall lady quickly grabbed the first hook of the closure and attached it to the collar of the cape. The other hook quickly got picked up and pinned on the other end of the collar. At this moment I realized the cape was on a bit too tight.

I just sat there in shock, less than 2 minutes ago I had walked into this busy salon. I expected a bit of time to get used to the environment while I awaited my turn. It all played out quite differently.

"Let me just take your glasses off so they don’t get in the way." The receptionist announced.

I quickly moved my arms so I could take off my glasses. This was more difficult than I thought with the big cape hanging over the sides of the chair.

When I did finally manage to get my hands above the restrictive garment I lifted my glasses off my head and handed them to her.

She took them from me and put them in the storage unit out of my sight.

I was now staring at a blurry image of myself in the mirror as the tall curvy lady went through my chin jaw length hair with her hands.

"So Rian, it’s your first time here at Unique Salon isn’t it?"

"Uh yes it is."

"Well you are in good hands. My name is Cindy."

My heart skipped a beat. My throat went dry. This was the scissor happy stylist. How did I end up with the scissor happy Cindy? Butterflies went through my stomach. Goosebumps all over my arms. Chills went down my spine.

"What are we doing today with this full head of hair?"

"Just a trim!" I almost yelled in panic.

"Alright, how much of a trim are we talking here?"

"Well I’m trying to grow my hair out but my girlfriend said I need to get trims in order to keep it healthy."

"Sounds like a smart lady to me! You do have a lovely full head of hair." Scissor happy Cindy continued as she picked up a comb from her trolly and started combing through it.

"Yes so just a trim, so I can keep growing it."

"And with a trim you mean 1 inch or 1/2 inch?"

Now this was a question I didn’t expect. From reading those reviews I expected a very scissor happy stylist who wouldn’t ask for clarification on the trim. But I was glad that she asked though, nobody could misunderstand what half an inch meant!

"Half an inch please."

"Are we also taking some weight off the top?"

"Oh no just a trim, that will do"

Cindy stopped going through my hair and turned the chair to my right hand side towards the sinks.

"Let’s get you washed first."

"Oh I washed it this morning so that’s okay."

"Let’s just get it wet then, that will make the cutting easier."

I meekly followed her to the sinks. What did she mean with "That will make the cutting easier?" I couldn’t finish my train of thought since I got rudely awoken by the cold water streaming down my full head of hair. She didn’t wait until it was nice and warm. The rinse only lasted about 30 seconds before she grabbed a towel and gave it a quick rough drying before she declared me done.

"All ready now, let’s get you back in my chair."

I was quite reluctant to get back into the chair but where could I go? I couldn’t come up with a valid excuse to simply leave in the middle of a haircut. I didn’t even have my glasses! Everything was blurry.

Cindy positioned herself behind the chair as I sat down. With her right foot she started pumping up the chair until I was towering high in the sky, or at least that’s what it felt like. My new stylist grabbed the ends of the cape at the back and lifted them over the chair to offer a better protection. The dark red cape was big and offered good protection. Only my head stuck out above the dark red nylon and you could just see which shoes I was wearing.

Cindy started combing through my hair and sectioned off the top with some hair clips.

I couldn’t really see but I must have looked silly with my hair pinned up with different hair clips.

"So are you going to school here?"

"No actually I’m done studying for a while now."

"That’s nice." Cindy replied while she grabbed my head and gently tilted it forward until my chin touched the cold nylon material of the salon cape.

I couldn’t see what she was doing, I was just staring at my knees in front of me which were covered by the salon cape. I could feel and hear her pair of scissors though. The chopping had started and I was still a little nervous. Even though the clarification of only half an inch and no thinning on the top made me relax a little bit.

The chit chat continued until Cindy was ready to move on to the side. Instead of positioning herself on my side she simply spun the chair around towards the right. I could see the shape of the sinks in front of me, blurry, but I could still see the crime scene of my ‘cold shower’ that had happened only minutes ago.

Cindy followed the line she had started in the back. As soon as the first hair started sliding down the cape I could clearly see that this wasn’t half an inch. I didn’t need my glasses for that.

"That’s a lot of hair."

"Yea you got loads. Just cleaning it up a bit, there are some weird long bits in there."

Cindy had dismissed my comment and went on with the chit chat. It wasn’t long before she turned me to the left so I was now staring at the lady next to me. She was wrapped in a plastic cape and had foils all over her hair. She gave me a quick glance which made me awkwardly stare down at my knees again which were now covered in long wet cut hair.

A few minutes later Cindy turned me away completely from the mirror so I was now facing her. She kept chatting while she undid the hair clips on top of my head and put her scissors just below my eyes. With a few big snips she cut away the hair that was normally covering my face. The hair rained down onto the cape and I could clearly see that Cindy seemed to be living up to her name as the Scissor Happy Stylist.

"That’s a lot shorter than I expected."

"Don’t worry, we’re not done yet. So have you been to the beach yet?"

She just ignored my questions and concerns and went on with her friendly chatting.

The chair was now positioned so I was looking into the salon. I could see the couch where the two women that were waiting seemed to have lost interest in their magazine and instead were following the haircut massacare I was currently going through. I couldn’t see their faces since I wasn’t wearing my glasses, which was probably for the better.

My thoughts were interrupted as the chair now spun back towards the mirror again. I stared into the mirror and could just see a big dark red cape and a blurry face, though it seemed like the head sticking out above the cape was covered in a lot less hair than only 15 minutes ago.

Cindy reached up to her storage next to the mirror to give me my glasses back.

I thanked her as I put my glasses on.

My fear had come true. My hair had been cut much shorter than I wanted. The half an inch trim turned into at least 3 inch being cut off. It was the type of cut which now didn’t even cover my ears anymore. My hair was still quite wet so when it would dry up it would probably be even shorter!

"Looks good on you!" Cindy declared.

"Uh yea but it’s short…"

"It will grow back."

With that she simply took the cape off professionally without letting any of the accumulated hair fall onto my shoes. I got up and saw the big pile of cut hair lay on the floor. "So much for half an inch trim." I thought to myself.

I followed her to the cash register and paid for my ‘trim’.

**

Once I made it home my girlfriend couldn’t believe it when she saw me. She expected me to come home with my long hair, just a trim on the ends. Instead of the long haired boy she had seen this morning, a new fresh shorn man walked through the door.

"Wow! Did you change your mind or did you get run over by a lawnmower?"

"Very funny! I asked for a trim and before I knew it she cut it short."

"Well it looks good on you! I like it."

"But I don’t!"

"Nothing you can do about it now… did you tip her?" Britt asked me as she went through my hair with her hands.

"Tip her? She ruined my hair!"

"There’s nothing wrong with the haircut, it’s short yes, but she did a good job. I can’t believe you didn’t tip her!"

"Well… it’s too late now anyway."

"Too late to be a decent human being? No no… The least you could do is call the salon and thank her for the great haircut she gave you."

"Call the salon?" I was confused.

"Yea? Why not? She worked hard on that haircut and you didn’t even tip or thanked her properly. So yes, give the salon a call."

I couldn’t believe how not only the stylist didn’t seem to understand what I wanted, now I came home to a girlfriend who didn’t seem to understand what had happened. Though still in my submissive state after that big chop, I was soon standing in the room with my phone dialling the Unique Salon.

"Unique Salon, how may I help you?"

"uh Hello, this is Rian."

"Rian? Oh hi it’s Cindy! I think it’s a bit soon for your follow up, I didn’t expect you so soon." Cindy Joked on the other end.

"Hi Cindy, uhm I just wanted to…"

I stopped talking and looked over to my girlfriend who made encouraging head movements to get on with it.

"I just wanted to say thanks."

"Thanks for what?"

"Thank you for the haircut."

"Oh you are so welcome! Did you show it to your girlfriend yet?"

"Uh yes I did, she really likes it."

"Good! I knew you could use a good trim."

"Yea it was a little bit shorter than I expected…"

My girlfriend gave me an angry look.

"… but I like it!" I quickly added.

"Great, so glad to hear. Shall I book you in for your next trim? How does Saturday the 3rd, 6 weeks from now, sound to you?"

"Well yea uh.."

"Just give me your number."

"250 934"

"Yes."

"3498."

"Excellent. I’ll book you in at 2pm just after my lunch break. Can’t wait Rian, thanks for calling!"

"Yes… thanks… see you then." I said awkwardly as I hung up the phone.

My girlfriend looked at me with a smile on her face. "What was that all about?"

"Well she was glad you liked it and wanted to book the next appointment right away."

"Great! I like her style. When is it?" Brit asked me with a smile on her face.

"Saturday the 3rd, 6 weeks from now."

"Hah I think you’ll need longer than that to recover from this haircut!" Britt pointed at my hair with a smile on her face as she grabbed her phone and started tapping on the screen. "Don’t worry, I put it in my agenda with a reminder, can’t have you miss your next appointment with your new hairdresser!"

I was in trouble and I knew it. Not only was I shorn by the scissor happy stylist, I was already in her appointment book for the next cutting session. The only thing that I had left to do was write a review about my short haircut, though I’m sure I would rate it 5 out of 5 stars.

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