David's Year of Change by Manny

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SPRING
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I wasn’t in the habit of meeting with job applicants I hadn’t selected for a position in order to discuss their resume or interview techniques. But, there was something that made me say yes to David’s request….

It wasn’t his resume (which was sparse with a sporadic employment history) or his interview (in which he came across as obnoxiously overconfident). It was more a matter of personal chemistry, something attractive about his charisma….and, of course, his handsome face, sculpted physique and abundant mane of shimmering brown locks that cascaded past his shoulders.

"I will meet him tomorrow at noon in the park café across the street," I told my secretary.

It was somewhat of a surprise that he was nowhere to be seen at noon. Had he changed his mind? Or, perhaps he didn’t care two licks about my busy schedule.

Just I was deciding to leave, I saw him approaching the café. A svelte blond with waist length wavy locks clung to him with her boobs pouring out of a skimpy halter top. They made no attempt to conceal their personal displays of affection or hasten the huggy/kissy farewell so that he could keep his appointment with me. At that moment, I knew NOT selecting David for the open law clerk position had been the right decision.

But, there was a lot I could teach him. Yes, he need to be brought down from his pedestal of self-love and fed a bit of humble pie!

"I was beginning to think you had changed your mind," I said casually as he approached the table.

"Sorry about that, mate," he replied, casually putting his hand on my shoulder in a very familiar way. "The little lady just wouldn’t let go of me."

"I saw…." I said in a humorless deadpan.

"I swear, sometimes I need a break from Gina. She’s so needy. But she’s great in bed, so I put up with her," David bragged.

I cut off more information about his sexual exploits and went straight to his professional deficiencies.

"First off, hire someone to revamp your resume," I began, folding up the sheets of paper I had saved. "You can’t really change the past but you can simplify it and make it more focused. For example, don’t list a two-week volunteer gig.…"

"But that was in a very prestigious organization," David countered.

I looked up and glared at him.

"Oh, sorry," he said quickly. "You’re telling me, not vice versa…."

"Right! And that brings me to a second point. The way you come across in the interview. It’s a turn-off, really. You need to be more modest, more deferent - less full of yourself, not so overconfident," I noted.

"Confidence is something employers look for!" David protested.

Again, I glared at him.

"Ooops, sorry," he said, reading my mind. "What else?"

I glanced at his lovely mane and smiled a bit.

"Get a haircut!" I said flatly. "If you were applying for a DJ position, those locks would be fine. But, for a white collar job, stick with a standard business cut. You know, tapered short around the ears and up the back. Most employers want to clearly see the white collar, as it’s called," I said, enjoying his reaction of repulsion.

"Well, that’s not going to happen," he stated defiantly, tossing his head back. "Gina would go berserk. She loves my long hair."

"Maybe Gina has a nice paying job for you with benefits," I smirked.

At that point, I stood and ended the discussion.

"What, already leaving?" David stammered.

"If you had come on time, I would have been able to share more advice," I said curtly.

Then, I soften my harsh response.

"Look, before your next serious job prospect, give me a call. Here’s a card with my personal number on the back. I’ll do a mock interview that we can record and go over together; we can discuss different ways to put things so you don’t come across like a pompous ass," I said.

"A pompous ass!!" David stammered. "Is that what you think of me?"

"Truth hurts, I’m afraid," I said, dishing out another put down.

Then, I added, "Oh, and I will give you a haircut myself that will increase your chances of getting hired by about 75%."

He stared in disbelief and pawed nervously at his hair. I turned and strode away.


SUMMER
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Several months later, I got a call from David.

"Still unemployed?" I asked.

"No," he said defensively. "Just under-employed. I’ve had a series of temporary gigs. But, on Monday, I have an interview with PSCE. I’m a perfect fit and the benefits couldn’t be better. I want to take you up on your offer."

"My offer?" I said, remembering our park discussion.

"Yes, the mock interview," David explained.

"And?" I added with restrained delight, wondering how he would react.

There was a silent interlude.

"Okay, and the haircut," he finally blurted out. "Just not too short!"

"You will look fantastic when I finish with you," I said in an upbeat tone.

"And will I also be able to come across with tempered confidence, deference and perfect insight?" he laughed.

"That goes without saying," I replied. "I’m a seasoned career coach. Come to my place Friday night for dinner, say around 7 pm. I’ll text you the address."

"Friday night?" he stammered haltingly. "Uh, I was going to take Gina to the movies."

I didn’t reply. He needed to jilt Gina a bit!

When he realized I wasn’t going to alter my invitation, David finally said, "Sure, I’ll be there at 7."

At 7 pm, my doorbell rang. He was on time for a change!

There stood David in all his beauty and glory.

"This is for you," he said, holding out a bottle of wine.

"Come on in," I replied, ushering the handsome man into my apartment.

Danny looked about in amazement. "Do you live here alone? It’s huge, it’s beautiful!" he exclaimed, his eyes wide with wonder at the executive penthouse I called home.

"Just wait till you see the view of the city from my terrace," I said, ushering him out onto the expansive area filled with flowering potted jasmine bushes that filled the air with a fragrant scent.

David’s beautiful hair streamed down his back in thick layers, the slightly wavy tips resting squarely between his two shoulder blades. Quickly calculating, about seven inches would fall to my kitchen floor! I couldn’t wait.

"Can I get you a drink? Some whiskey, perhaps?" I asked.

"Oh, I don’t normally….." he stammered, but then, relented. "Sure, that would be nice."

David was seated, admiring the lovely cityscape of twinkling lights when I returned with two glasses of smooth, high-end Scotch.

After setting them down, I felt bold enough to touch his hair and then begin to stroke the lovely tresses.

"So, you’re going to let me cut this hair," I said, with a bit of an open-ended approach.

"It’s what you said," David finally whimpered, letting me tacitly know that he preferred it not be cut.

"Does Gina know?" I asked, fingering the silken locks, as if they belonged to me.

"She’ll just have to deal with it when she sees me tomorrow," David said in a somewhat spiteful tone. "Gina’s been on my nerves, of late."

"Dump her," I blurted out, somehow unrestrained in my thoughts and opinions.

"Dump her? Why?" David stammered.

"So that you can spend more time with me," I said, feeling totally uninhibited.

David remained silent and seemed quite submissive as I continued to caress his silken locks.

Finally, he spoke. "You won’t cut it too short, will you?"

"I promise you that you will like the result," I said, dodging the direct question.

"I had a goal of growing my hair out, until it reached my waist," David explained.

"A goal I hope you’ve abandoned," I noted wryly.

"Let’s get it over with quickly. Now!" David suddenly urged.

"Before you get cold feet?" I asked.

"You can cut my hair short, into a business cut," he said. "I just ask that you leave my bangs long, please, not above my eyebrow. Will you promise me that?"

"I’ll promise you…." I said, hesitating, "….if you kiss me."

It was a magical evening with the city lights twinkling below and the stars above.

David hesitated, staring at me, processing and considering my forward request.

Then, he leaned over and gave me on little peck on the lips, like you might kiss your grandmother.

"That’s your best?" I asked, mocking him.

He flushed and ditched his inhibition, taking me in his arms. Full of passion, he began kissing me again. I was like putty in his embrace.

He paused and stammered, "I’ve never kissed another man before."

"Did you like it?" I asked.

He smiled, a bit conflicted, and replied, "I suppose, better than I thought it would be."

I was out of breath when the make-out session finally ended.

"Hungry or haircut?" I asked.

"Cut it! I want the long hair cut off. Now!" he said in a tone of decisiveness and finality.

He pulled his hair back into a makeshift pony tail and stated, "Chop this off!"

It was as if he was psyching himself into desiring the loss of his lovely, long hair.

The thickness of the tail at his nape was staggering! He had even more hair than I had imagined.

I led him into the kitchen and had him sit while I retrieved my barber kit.

Out came the cape and I snapped it open with a flourish. He remained submissive while I fastened it in place.

Then I began to brush his long, beautiful mane. The feel, the color, the length….it was the most wonderful head of hair I’d ever worked with. I imagine the scissors lopping off the length and watching it fall to my feet.

I picked up set of shears.

"Gina is going to miss this when it’s gone," I announced, snapping the blades open and shut a few times.

"Screw Gina!" David quipped as I nudged his head forward and combed through his locks one last time.

"Ready?" I asked.

But, without waiting for a reply, the shearing began.

SNIP, SNIP, SNIP!

The silver blades flashed as I cut through the mahogany locks hanging from his nape. Long clumps of his silken hair fell to the kitchen floor.

I watched gleefully as his alabaster neck appeared through the drapes of hair that dangled on either side.

"Let me look," David said.

I stopped so that he could examine the floor.

"Sheeeesh! OMG! So much! Look at all that," he gasped.

"And, that’s just the start. There’s a lot more to come. Thanks for trusting your hair to me, David," I said tenderly.

"You won’t cut it too short," David asked again. It was as if he didn’t trust me.

I continued snipping off all the length from the back and sides.

SNIP, SNIP, SNIP.

I purposely did not answer his question.

"Were you afraid of coming here this evening," I asked.

"A little," David confessed. "But, I was curious too. I sort of took a fancy to your when I interviewed for that job I didn’t get."

I wanted to use the clippers on him, but decided to not freak him out. He would receive a scissors cut, full and styled like a male model, albeit off his ears and collar. It would build trust between us.

I got the spritzer and wet down his locks with a heavy mist of water.

I combed everything straight down.

"I’m going to take your bangs off right below the eyebrow. How’s that?" I asked, putting the outer side of the blade to the intended length.

"Just a bit longer, please," he asked.

"Okay, then, mid-eye," I decided and quickly secured the lock with my fingers and snipped off the length before he could plead for more of a reprieve.

He smiled, happy that I had honored his request.

Then I started combing his damps locks up from his head and snipping off a good six inches from the top. The wet tresses hit the cape with a thud and slid into his lap.

SNIP, SNIP, SNIP.

David watched the pile of cut hair on the cape grow.

I decided to snip around his ears.

Very carefully the shears uncovered one ear and then the other.

"There, I don’t know why you were hiding those. They are very shapely and don’t stick out at all," I said.

David blushed.

I started removing the bulk from the sides and shortening the back too. A lot more hair came off.

David had a perfect mane, and I was confident it would style nicely with the blow dryer.

"I’m just going to trim your neck with the edger," I warned, picking up a small set of clippers.

David was nervous as the chattering teeth buzzed near his hair.

But, I kept my word.

"Now, for the grand finale," I announced, retrieving the blow dryer.

I took my time and worked magic with his hair. As it dried beneath the warm blast, his hair shone and layered wonderfully. David looked like a true stud, handsome enough to be a male model. The long forelock swooped down a bit to his large green eyes before being swept back in the sexiest of manners.

I took off the cape.

"Go look at yourself in the bathroom and let me know what you think," I said.

As I was retrieving a broom, I heard a yelp of pleasure!

David rushed back into the kitchen.

"It’s absolutely amazing!!" he stammered.

He seized me with his strong arms and kissed me intensely.

I ran my fingers through his silken locks. So plush, so full. But….I knew the next time I had David under my cape, he would come out looking quite different!


FALL
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David credited my interview feedback and his new look for snagging the desired job. He was in a joyful, playful mood as he invited me out to dinner to celebrate.

Over the next few weeks, we saw more and more of each other. Of course, there was still the Gina obstacle to contend with.

David laughed that he was the only person he knew who had both a girlfriend and a boyfriend! He decided to devote three nights of his week to Gina, three to me, and one for himself. From time-to-time the three of us would do something together, but it was an awkward dynamic.

David loved his new job and continually crowed about how great he was doing and how he deserved a rapid promotion.

So, it was a complete shock when David came to my apartment one evening and blurted out, as he rushed in the door, "They are going to let me go! The bastards! After all my hard work…."

David railed between livid and despondent. He babbled, "My supervisor called me into his office and broke the news in the cruelest way. ‘There is one month left in your probationary period, and I’m not inclined to keep you one when it ends. As a friend, I thought I’d warn you so that you can start looking for a new job somewhere else.’ Can you believe that?! ‘As a friend!’ He’s the falsest of friends. Not like you! Oh, I don’t know what to do…."

A few tears trickled down David’s cheek. I’d never seen him like this.

"Here, here. Let it out. Then we can strategize," I say consoling him, running my fingers through his hair as emotions overwhelmed him.

Finally, he settled down and I brought him a glass of Scotch. "Do you know what the matter is? Have you ever been counseled about your work in any way? Anything in writing I could see?" I asked.

"No, I think other guys in the office are jealous of me. Whisperings that I’d been given the fun assignments and they got the grunt work. They chafe about my window view. That sort of thing. They refer to me as ‘PB’ and I even heard my supervisor use it a few times," David said.

"PB?" I puzzled.

"Pretty Boy," David explained. "Triple M is another moniker, Mr. Male Model. It’s all jealousy. Once, when I was in a one-on-one with my supervisor, he snapped ‘get that hair out of your eyes! This is an office, not a fashion catwalk.’ I can’t help it that I’m so handsome."

"I’m thinking, an official communication on my attorney’s letterhead, warning against ‘wrongful termination’ might make the higher ups look into your situation. If it’s just petty jealousy, they wouldn’t dare fire you," I said.

"You’d do that?!" David asked, his face brightening at the idea.

"I might. My law firm does handle labor suits. But it would have to be coupled with you working extra hard, curbing your natural arrogance, buttering up your supervisor, and a further makeover," I said gently.

David blinked and ran his fingers through his hair nervously.

"It is getting a little annoying in my eyes constantly," he whimpered. "But I’m letting it grow it out again. I still want to experience waist-length hair. And, I’m not arrogant!"

"That forelock is getting snipped off well above the eyebrows this time, and you can also expect a bit of clipper action to take down that bulk of gloss you’re sporting," I warned.

He winced.

"Short hair will suit you," I added.

"But I want…." David pouted.

I got up, acting bored and sauntered out to the terrace. I left David brooding on the couch.

A few minutes later, he called out to me. "I’ll be in the kitchen…."

He sounded miserable. "…waiting for the barber."

I got my barber kit from the linen closet and found him already seated on the makeshift barber chair as I entered the kitchen. He looked up at me through the cascading forelock. He flicked it back. His large green eyes continued a silent plea that it be spared.

"Not too short," he said to make his preference clear.

"You just leave it to me," I said, snapping open the cape and casting it about his shoulders.

I took the large set of Oster’s and handled it in front of his face while I prepared it for action, Then, I plugged it in and fired it up, just so that he could get used to the sound.

David’s face blanched at the sight and sound of the unforgiving metal teeth of the Oster’s.

"You’re going to use those on me?" he stammered.

"No one is going to be calling you PB after I finish this haircut, David," I stated firmly.

He looked so humble, so submissive, and so miserable as he stared aimlessly into his lap, hunched over.

"Sit up straight," I instructed, snapping off the clippers and seizing a pair of sharp barber shears.

I combed his massive forelock straight down, fashioning a thick veil of hair to cover his eyes.

His heavy bangs dangled down toward his nose. I struggled to determine a length. Of course, above the brow. But how far up? Quarter inch? Mid-forehead? I combed through the doomed locks several more times.

"Let’s start with this overgrowth," I said, snapping the shears open and shut a few times, as if putting David ‘en guard’ in a fencing match.

Then, quickly, I brought them near the top of his forehead.

OMG! It would be a brutal assault! So SHORT!!!

SNIP, SNIP, SNIP!

The crunching of the blades through thick, dry hair made an excruciating sound. Four shimmering inches of cut hair fell quickly past his astonished eyes. The short bangs looked hideous!

"What did you do?!" David shrieked, as he jumped up from the chair and ran to the bathroom, cape flailing about like a wounded superhero.

He flew into a rage of shouting and hollering as I remained in the kitchen staring at his shorn locks on the floor at my feet.

Calmly, I said, "I warned you it was going to be short. Now get back in here."

It took him a while to settle down, but eventually, he shuffled back in, cape still fastened into place and meekly took a seat.

"You’re going to have to trust me, David," I said, forcing his head down and firing up the Oster’s. "A lot, and I mean A LOT of hair is coming off. When you walk into the office tomorrow, you’re going to look more like a marine than a male model."

CLICK. BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.

I drove the clippers tightly up the back of his head. The #1 blade left a shorn swath of stubble; mounds of luscious brown hair fell away, tumbling down the back of the cape in clumps and collecting on the kitchen floor.

"Ever since you met me, you’ve been wanting to do this, haven’t you?" David said in an accusatory, almost bitter tone.

"No one is making you sit here," I replied curtly.

I continued clipping off his beautiful hair, extremely short, making sure the cut locks fell onto the cape and collected in his lap so that he could be in no doubt about his transformational change.

"If I had my way," I said slowly, "I would shave this all off. Completely. Bald. Nothing left but a cueball up here, smooth and silken scalp."

David turned and looked up at me, asking "Why?"

I shrugged, "I can’t explain it. I think the change would do you good. And, I would so much enjoy stroking tender, virgin scalp where beautiful hair had once flowed."

The haircut continued in silence as I shifted into a clipper-over-comb mode on top, taking off the length, shorter and shorter.

There were long locks of hair everywhere, almost everywhere except his head.

I put the finishing touches on his new look, snipping away at the truncated bangs.

"There, perfect! A crisp, classic look! I hope you like your new crewcut," I announced.

David sat submissively as I unfastened the clip that had held the cape in place.

The first thing he did was feel the short length up the back and on top. Then he tried to grasp the bit of wispy fringe.

"Go take a look in the bathroom," I said.

"I’d rather not," he replied, showing a definite lack of enthusiasm.

"Fine," I said. "I’ll work on a draft to the labor complaint and send it to you for review."

David shuffled out of the apartment without saying a word, still unable to stop feeling his shorn head.

I was left with the pleasant task of sweeping up all the hair cuttings. Two dustpans piled high with brown hair were dumped into the kitchen trash after David left.


WINTER
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The following day, I sent a draft of the legal complaint to David for review, but never heard back from him.

I felt bad. I really shouldn’t have given into my urge to give him a brutally short haircut. He had been so proud of his hair….

Six weeks later, I finally got a text that simply said, "Can we talk?"

I suggested the park café in front of my office, at noon.

This time he was already seated at a table when I arrived. I thought back to our first encounter when he casually finished making out with Gina and arrived horribly late.

He had a somber look on his face.

"Hey," I said softly.

"Thanks for coming," he replied, averting his eyes. His crewcut had grown out a bit and looked quite nice.

"What’s up?" I asked.

He whimpered, "I’ve missed you."

"I imagined you were spending more time with Gina," I replied.

"Gina is history. We quarreled and she gave me the axe," he explained.

"About your haircut?" I asked.

"She didn’t like the crewcut at all, but no, not because of the haircut," David confirmed. "She dumped me when I told her I’d been fired from my job. She called me a loser."

"Is that why you wanted to see me?" I asked.

David looked up at me with his huge green eyes. "I need some help. I didn’t know who else to turn to. I haven’t been able to pay my rent and my credit cards are maxxed out."

"Why didn’t you pursue the legal option I suggested," I asked.

"I decided I didn’t really like that office. All those petty, jealous colleagues. Oh, they had a great time razzing me about my crewcut and what happened to PB….no more 3M prancing about feeling cute. The place was toxic. A day later I got a notification that had a lot of legalese in it about how the job being conditional and that I did not rise to their expectations and that they were completely in their right to let me go at the end of the month," David explained.

"I’m sorry," I said in a soft, caring tone. "You’re welcome to stay at my place if you need a bed."

David got a twinkle in his eye. "I just have one condition…."

He broke into a shy grin, "….and, it’s non-negotiable."

"Tell me!" I exclaimed.

"I want you to shave my head. Totally bald! Chromedome. Every hair scraped off, smooth as a whistle, down to the wood!!" David announced with a massive smile on his face. "It’s all I have to offer."

"Accepted!" I replied with laughter. "If…."

His eyes got large. "IF?"

"If, when you are totally smooth and the barber offers you a lollipop for being so good in his chair, you suck it until the burst of flavor fills your eager mouth!" I exclaimed.

"I’m a sucker for new experiences," David laughed. "You’re on!"

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