Here's the third installment.
Mickey, I get most of the pictures from blogs, of which there are
sooo many these days. I'll send you a link privately and you can check some of them out.
That Night—
Brian showed up at around 4:30 and I showed him the picture Hawk had sent me and asked him for that haircut. If you could see both of us in person we almost look like twins, with blonde undercut styles, real out of fashion, but I don’t care. This haircut will be almost as constricted and major as what lurked in the jockstrap.
“Hey Rich, how’s it hanging?” Brian chimed in giving me his classic fist bump and stepping into my rented room in the bungalow behind my landlady’s house. “You said you needed a haircut, what did you have in mind?”
I handed him a Budweiser and the picture from Hawk, and he took a big gulp and exclaimed: ‘Whoa! This is quite a change for you. You’ve been wearing that undercut style almost as long as I have.”
I informed him of Hawk’s plans but lied, and said I was going off to my uncle’s cabin for a while to write ‘the great American novel,’ and would not be around any barber for a while. He seemed shocked but also understanding. You see we’ve known each other since small kid days and he and I even fooled around once in a while too—youthful experimentation. Brian was a vanilla gay guy though, so I never told him about my BDSM exploits. THAT would really shock him, I thought.
“So, Rich,” Brian asked as my blonde locks fell all over the sheet he placed around my neck, “what’s the novel going to be about?”
“I’m not entirely sure right now but it will take place in slavery days in ancient Rome most likely,” I lied.
“You mean slaves like with chains and collars and beatings and torture?” he asked.
“Yes, lots of slaves all trussed up, kidnapped, put into servitude and beholden to their masters,” I said gulping my beer too.
![8639077109_12927eee5f[1].jpg (132.28 KiB) Viewed 6214 times 8639077109_12927eee5f[1].jpg](./download/file.php?id=9926&t=1&sid=867e9fa7c8fde45525eb90090161ae7b)
- Me before the haircut
“Wow, Rich, have you ever had a desire to do stuff like that? I know we used to play tie up games as kids but that sounds severe!”
He was blow drying my hair now, getting rid of the loose hairs. I looked in the mirror and smiled at my almost bald head.
“Nice job, Brian. I like it!” avoiding his question as the beer buzz started to take hold. “Now, could you do me another favor and take some pictures for me?”, I asked, rising and removing my Abercrombie t-shirt and pulling on the sweats and Nikes.
“Sure, where’s your iPhone?” I handed it to him and asked him to step out front and go to the sidewalk, where he took a number of shots. In one or two of them I had my head held down as Hawk requested, so I could send that to him.
We returned to my place, had another beer each and then I decided to ask him a question. “Brian, how would you like to live here instead of at your parent’s house? You could pay the rent and take care of stuff for me?” I knew this wasn’t what Hawk had asked me to do but felt it was only within reason and that way I wouldn’t be giving my stuff to just anyone but to my best friend.
“Sure,” he replied, “I’d love to get away from under my parent’s thumbs and rules. I’ll gladly do it for you, ole buddy.”
I immediately called my landlady and asked her if that arrangement would be ok, and she said yes, as she and Brian were friends. He was, you see, her hairdresser too.
Eventually, Brian had to leave. I thanked him profusely, and then I sent a copy of this to Hawk too. I wondered how he would react. The response did not take long.