narrow hips, and a thoughtful frown on his perfect face that had clearly benefitted from excellent skin care. Wait a minute...was he wearing eyeliner?
Hand thrust forward, he walked toward me and waved one of the women over as well. "Ben. I'm going to have the dubious pleasure of turning your gorgeous cut and color into something a little...well..trashier." He shook my hand and put an arm around the tiny elf-like girl who'd joined us. "Moira's gonna tart up your makeup. We'll have you looking like a biker chick in no time."
I shook Ben's hand and stood there while he walked all the way around me and used both hands to pick up my long, thick hair and feel its texture and weight.
He came back around to face me. "The good news is that your hair's healthy and thick, so it'll probably survive what we're going to do to it."
My eyes must have widened in alarm.
"It's only hair, and even if it's a little damaged, it'll grow back. You any good with makeup?"
I was stunned speechless and I just shrugged again.
"No worries," Moira said, putting a reassuring and tiny hand on my arm. "I'll teach you a few tricks. The good thing is that you don't exactly need a light touch for your new look. The blacker, the heavier, and the bolder, the better. It's actually kind of fun."
Her bubbly enthusiasm perked me up a little. "Okay, folks. I'm in your hands. Let's do it."
Ben walked me to the shampoo station. "Don't tell me a thing about why you need your new look. I handle special assignments like yours, but I don't want to know any details." He looked at me and laid his hand on his perfectly stubbled jaw. "I can't have this pretty face messed up, can I?"
I couldn't help but laugh as he got started washing and conditioning my hair.
"I'm thinking heavy highlights -- a little too blond and a little grown out. That okay?"
"You're the expert," I answered. "I just want it back to normal before I have to go see my regular stylist. He'll boot me out of the salon if he sees what you're going to do to his work."
"Oh?" Ben asked theatrically. "A prima donna, is he?"
"A bit," I laughed. "But he's good."
"Clearly," Ben agreed. "Your color's lovely. He knows not to do too much. You're beautifully brightened up without looking overdone. Pretty much the opposite of what you're about to look like."
Since we couldn't really do much in the way of chit-chat, I flipped through a few issues of People magazine while Ben filled my head with foils. After a few eye watering minutes under the dryer, he removed them, rinsed my hair, and led me to his chair.
"Wow." I said, apprehensively. "That's really blonde, and that's a lot of dark roots. You sure about this?"
Ben stood behind me and looked at me in the mirror. "Max, you're not gonna like the way you look when you leave. But it's the look you're supposed to have."
I was silent as he trimmed my hair, giving me slightly uneven long layers and heavier bangs than I'd ever wear. He dried my hair, teased it, and used a week's worth of hairspray.
"Jesus," I said as I stared at my reflection. "I hate it."
Ben looked at me and was clearly preparing to justify his work.
"It's perfect," I told him. "Thanks. I'm looking forward to having you un-do all your hard work as soon as possible."
He breathed a sigh of relief. "Will do, honey. It's Moira's turn now. Come see me when you're all finished."
Ben had pointed out Moira across the room, and she waved me toward her station. I sat down, still not used to the reflection that looked back at me.
"So the blonde is kinda fun, huh?" Moira asked cheerfully. "Do you usually wear makeup?" She asked.
"I usually wear a little for work and a little more when I go out. I came bare-faced today since I knew we'd be doing a whole new look."
"Well you don't need much since you're young and pretty."
I typically wasn't a fan of empty flattery, but given what I saw in the mirror, I was going to take it any way I could get it today. "I'm not that far away from thirty," I told her,
Hand thrust forward, he walked toward me and waved one of the women over as well. "Ben. I'm going to have the dubious pleasure of turning your gorgeous cut and color into something a little...well..trashier." He shook my hand and put an arm around the tiny elf-like girl who'd joined us. "Moira's gonna tart up your makeup. We'll have you looking like a biker chick in no time."
I shook Ben's hand and stood there while he walked all the way around me and used both hands to pick up my long, thick hair and feel its texture and weight.
He came back around to face me. "The good news is that your hair's healthy and thick, so it'll probably survive what we're going to do to it."
My eyes must have widened in alarm.
"It's only hair, and even if it's a little damaged, it'll grow back. You any good with makeup?"
I was stunned speechless and I just shrugged again.
"No worries," Moira said, putting a reassuring and tiny hand on my arm. "I'll teach you a few tricks. The good thing is that you don't exactly need a light touch for your new look. The blacker, the heavier, and the bolder, the better. It's actually kind of fun."
Her bubbly enthusiasm perked me up a little. "Okay, folks. I'm in your hands. Let's do it."
Ben walked me to the shampoo station. "Don't tell me a thing about why you need your new look. I handle special assignments like yours, but I don't want to know any details." He looked at me and laid his hand on his perfectly stubbled jaw. "I can't have this pretty face messed up, can I?"
I couldn't help but laugh as he got started washing and conditioning my hair.
"I'm thinking heavy highlights -- a little too blond and a little grown out. That okay?"
"You're the expert," I answered. "I just want it back to normal before I have to go see my regular stylist. He'll boot me out of the salon if he sees what you're going to do to his work."
"Oh?" Ben asked theatrically. "A prima donna, is he?"
"A bit," I laughed. "But he's good."
"Clearly," Ben agreed. "Your color's lovely. He knows not to do too much. You're beautifully brightened up without looking overdone. Pretty much the opposite of what you're about to look like."
Since we couldn't really do much in the way of chit-chat, I flipped through a few issues of People magazine while Ben filled my head with foils. After a few eye watering minutes under the dryer, he removed them, rinsed my hair, and led me to his chair.
"Wow." I said, apprehensively. "That's really blonde, and that's a lot of dark roots. You sure about this?"
Ben stood behind me and looked at me in the mirror. "Max, you're not gonna like the way you look when you leave. But it's the look you're supposed to have."
I was silent as he trimmed my hair, giving me slightly uneven long layers and heavier bangs than I'd ever wear. He dried my hair, teased it, and used a week's worth of hairspray.
"Jesus," I said as I stared at my reflection. "I hate it."
Ben looked at me and was clearly preparing to justify his work.
"It's perfect," I told him. "Thanks. I'm looking forward to having you un-do all your hard work as soon as possible."
He breathed a sigh of relief. "Will do, honey. It's Moira's turn now. Come see me when you're all finished."
Ben had pointed out Moira across the room, and she waved me toward her station. I sat down, still not used to the reflection that looked back at me.
"So the blonde is kinda fun, huh?" Moira asked cheerfully. "Do you usually wear makeup?" She asked.
"I usually wear a little for work and a little more when I go out. I came bare-faced today since I knew we'd be doing a whole new look."
"Well you don't need much since you're young and pretty."
I typically wasn't a fan of empty flattery, but given what I saw in the mirror, I was going to take it any way I could get it today. "I'm not that far away from thirty," I told her,
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