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Charming Dennis by Manny

As Susan ushered my next loan applicant in, I quickly saw why someone with such an awful credit history was deemed by my support staff to merit an in-person interview. Under normal standards, anyone with three bankruptcies on record, few liquid assets and an abysmal credit score would be tossed without consideration into the reject pile.

But there he was, Mr. Smooth-talking, swarthy and handsome Dennis Calpasini, heaping elaborate attention on Susan and charming her through flattery until she blushed. His beautiful shoulder-length dark hair and full, manly beard made him look like some sort of Biblical figure in a DaVinci masterpiece. He was clad in a very expensive suit and exquisite shoes -- both of which had obviously contributed to this significant consumer debt. He made himself quite comfortable on the leather sofa in my office, crossing his leg in a very casual and relaxed manner.

"So, Susan tells me that this is just a formality. Determine the size of the loan and sign on the dotted line," he said in a breezy manner, as if Susan were the ultimate decision maker.

"I'm afraid it's not that simple, Mr. Calpasini," I said curtly. "You see, you may have charmed Susan into moving you to this phase of the application process, but as I review these documents, I find you exceptionally unqualified for a loan."

He was unfazed by the bucket of cold water on his scheme to open a chain of novelty shops. "Matt," he replied with a charming smile, "that is, if I can call you that, Matt?" I thought I detected a cryptic wink as he tossed his head back and sent his lush mane dancing about. "You see, Matt, I was able to take Susan out for a drink where we had plenty of time for her to listen to me about my plan. Perhaps I could take you out to lunch. There's a fabulous French restaurant...."

I cut him off. "I'm sure she was delighted to spend the evening with you....listening intently, captivated by your handsome face and charm. She does have a thing for romantic, sexy men with flowing locks."

Denny smiled and ran his fingers through his mane. "Yes, she told me so herself. I pay attention to it, and it pays dividends for me! My hair is one of my best features, Matt, don't you think?"

"No, not at all," I snapped. "I'd like to see you in a barber's chair getting a decent 'short back and sides'. Now, that's what I consider a proper look for a serious businessman. When I look at you, all I see is a playboy. I see another bankruptcy and an eventual default on the loan. How many have there been already? Four? Five?"

"No, only three," he replied, for the first time worried about where our little chat was going.

I stood to end the meeting. "So, then, three strikes and you're out! I'm sorry Mr. Calpasini, I am not approving your loan." I strode over to the door and opened it, indicating his interview was over.

He stood, reluctantly, stunned by the quick end to the interview. "But, Susan said...."

"Susan is not the decider. I am," I smirked. How I enjoyed putting down that cocky, pretty boy. So full of himself!

Denny pulled himself together and regained his confident attitude. He strode up right next to me and towered over me, making me feel a bit puny and powerless.

He gazed down at my thinning, limp hair. "If you hadn't been so jealous of my handsome looks and lush locks, you would have given me a fair hearing. I am on to something big, and I will make it big, Matt. I'll be a famous entrepreneur and you will still be a dreary, insignificant bank employee pouring over documents and making loan calculations. You envied my rapport with the ladies. Isn't that so? Poor you. You've hit on Susan, but she rejected you. She told me over cocktails about what a loser you are....."

He strode out. The waft of cologne left a trace of himself behind. I felt small and insignificant.

But I was puzzled by his last comment. I had never hit on Susan! He must have surmised that, invented that. And I'm sure she did have some catty things to say about me. She'd always been sore that I got the promotion over her. Sexism....she told her gal-pals.

I thought that would be the end of my interactions with Dennis Calpasini.

A few days later, I was leaving the bank, just beginning to walk towards the parking garage a few blocks away when I sensed someone coming up close to me from behind. That scent! I turned, and there was Dennis in his full glory, looking even more handsome than I'd remembered.

"Sorry, I startled you," he said innocently. "I just wanted to apologize."

We walked on, with him closely beside. I welcomed the lack of personal space. "That's okay. No hard feelings. You were upset, and perhaps I didn't give you a chance to...."

He put his hand gently on my shoulder. "You were just doing your job, saving time. But, I would like to invite you out for a drink...."

His caress on my shoulder made me shiver. He was coming on to me....and I was quickly succumbing!

I turned and our eyes met. His deep green eyes penetrated to my most private thoughts. He knew he had hooked me and was already reeling me in. He was so manly and sexy and charming.

"And I would like to accept," I said quietly and quickly, feeling a bit guilty, but glad.

"You and Susan have the same taste in men, I think," said Dennis with a twinkle in his eye.

"Actually, we do. All except the hair," I replied, as we walked.

"Not into long hair?" he noted skeptically. "It can be cut. If a short business cut is what it will take to get my loan approved, let's find a barber shop right now." He grasped a shank of his mane. "Have all this chopped off to please you."

He laughed; I couldn't tell if he was serious.

"There is a shop near here that specializes in military lengths. Regulations cuts, flattops, high 'n tights," I said casually.

"Is that where we are headed?" he asked.

"I love to stroke freshly clipped stubble," I replied.

"And what will be in it for me?" Dennis asked quite directly.

We walked on in silence. Was I prepared to do this?! It was wrong, I knew it. But, I felt weak....

"An approved loan, for the amount you requested," I said in a thin, shaky voice.

"One haircut at the barber shop? That's it?" he asked.

"One military length haircut at the barber shop. Followed by one dinner at a cozy French Restaurant. And a night of pleasure?" I asked.

"Even if it's faked?" he asked.

"I'm sure you can come across as convincing....based on how I feel this minute," I murmured.

"Then, we're off to the barber shop!" he exclaimed jovially as he put his arm around me and pulled me very close to him. I shivered with excitement as I imagined an intimate night together.

During our stroll to the barber shop, he showed me just how convincing he could be. We were like a couple, falling madly in love.

He toyed with my thin, wispy hair. "Perhaps we'll both leave the shop transformed," Dennis whispered in my ear.

The thought of having my little business cut shaved off sent a jolt through me. I had always imagined the event, but never considered it seriously. Besides, I was much too busy thinking about the cape being fastened tightly around Dennis' neck and the clippers coming up through his lush mane. Me giving the instruction and him sitting submissively in the chair! His long locks falling in torrents to the barber's feet. It was a fantasy I feed on often.

Dusk was setting in when we approached the barber shop. The neon light from within cast a beacon, like that of a light house in a storm. I felt so excited as I maneuvered Dennis closer to the clippers!

"You will look very handsome with a flattop," I told him, as we were within a few steps of the entrance. I felt him instinctively slow his pace. Reality was setting in. Dennis, seated, caped and clipped! Me in charge of his fate! His hair for the loan approval....

He gripped the handle of the door and pulled it open. As he guided me in with his hand, he whispered in an authoritative manner, "You will go first!"

I hesitated, but he was firm.

The idle barber greeted us. "Good evening. Who's first?" he asked politely.

Dennis took control of the situation. "He is," he announced, nudging me towards the chair. "He's here for a high 'n tight. The window sign says you specialize in them."

I was being manhandled by Dennis. I felt submissive to his authority. I meekly approached the chair and climbed into it. As I dropped into the comfort of the chair's upholstery, I imagined myself sporting a 'high and tight'>

In an instant, the cape flew through the air and the barber was fastening it tightly around my neck. I could not believe what was happening to me. One minute walking to my car to drive home....and the next, swept off my feet and under Dennis' spell.

I gazed at him through the mirror. So handsome! And, such gorgeous, shimmering, long hair. I squirmed as I thought about giving the order for it to be cut off.

Then the barber shoved my head down and I felt the balding clippers come up through the nape. I was definitely headed towards my first high 'n tight.

"That's quite short," Dennis noted, as he watched my hair being shaved off.

"About as short as one can get," the barber chuckled. "A good length for thinning hair like his."

Dennis stood and walked over, as if he were a father examining the progress of his son's haircut. "You're doing a very good job," he said, approvingly. "If it comes out well, I just might be tempted to have mine cut too."

The barber chuckled. "That would be a lot of hair coming off...."

"Not tonight, of course. Our reservation for dinner....." Dennis said.

I tried to protest, to insist his hair be cut tonight, but the barber's firm grip made me keep my head down, facing the cape, very submissively.

I stewed. Instead of Dennis leaving with his locks shorn, the tables had been turned. It would be me sporting an H 'n T.

The barber was like a machine, putting a definite end to my mousy business cut. The clippers took the thin wisps down to the scalp. My hair was cut to a shockingly short length. I gulped nervously when the barber showed me the sparse back with a mirror.

Dennis made a huge show of paying and of complimenting the barber and his skills at the military length.

"And, when will you be paying us a visit?" the barber inquired.

"One of these days. Perhaps," Dennis said with a lot of nuance in his voice.

As soon as we were outside the shop, I started to chafe, "We came here for your hair to be cut, not mine."

He smirked and rubbed my bristles. "Oh, just like you said, the feel of a clipped head is fantastic. And that it's your head instead of mine, makes it better."

"But our agreement?" I stammered.

"Matt, when I saw how great my hair looked inside the shop, I decided it should not be cut. You don't mind so much, I hope," Dennis cooed in my ear.

"Well, I guess it's okay. But you will still cut it? Perhaps tomorrow or the next day?" I asked tentatively.

"I know that's what you want, Matt," he replied affectionately. "If you can honestly look me in the eye and say that my long hair looks awful, I will cut it all off. One day, eventually, perhaps."

"Oh, Dennis!" I exclaimed. "You are incredibly handsome. Nothing about you looks awful."

"There, that settles it!" he declared triumphantly. "It shall not be cut! My hair is my strength..."

He gathered me in his strong arms and planted the most convincingly passionate kiss on my lips I'd ever experienced. Right in the middle of the sidewalk! I was like putty in his arms.

"And thanks for approving my loan, dear Matt," he whispered in my ear.

"You're welcome," I mouthed back.

"Now to the meal. I think it should be your treat, to wish me well on my new business venture. Don't you?" he said, affectionately stroking my stubble.

Dennis would have it all. The loan, the meal....and the long hair. The glossy locks looked even more fantastic under the evening street lights.

"Yes, the meal will be my treat, Dennis," I said meekly and gratefully. I dreamed of brushing his thick locks and nuzzling in his silken mane.

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