The best thing about giving up your secrets to your hairstylist is that he (or she; but let’s just assume he’s a man) isn’t going to try to cure you of your little…aberrations. He has no interest in changing you, modifying your behavior, chastising you or telling your friends or your spouse. You are paying him to make you beautiful. And feeling gorgeous loosens your tongue. He is not your mother, your best friend, or your priest. Most importantly, he is not your therapist.
For that hour or two when he is running his fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp, lovingly painting dazzling colors on your locks ~~ he is all yours. And you want to tell him, don’t you? You clench your fists under the gown, curl your toes when the chills go down your spine in the washbowl, close your eyes and... spill it. It’s safe - it’s even a touch erotic. And it’s all yours.
To be continued...
No comments:
Post a Comment