Alexis

I met Alex when I was apartment hunting the fall before I started at G.. College. I had just finished my doctorate and had decided to look for a job that emphasized teaching rather than get into the big university, publish or perish research scene. This job opened up fairly late, as one faculty member got a 2 year appointment as a congressional science consultant. So I fell into the position, by being in the right place at the right time. It was only a 2 year job, but I would eat. All of the College housing was taken, since it was pretty late, so I dropped in at a local real estate office to see if they had anything. It wasnít a very big town and I hoped I wouldnít have to commute too far.

The gal at the desk ushered me in to an inner office with a couple of desks, kind of messy, lots of papers and stuff around, not a cold efficient place at all. I donít know who I was expecting to talk to, but a tall, slim woman, about my age, with short dark curls stood up and stuck out her hand. ìHi, Iím Alex S......, what can I help you with?î

I told her my situation, that I needed an apartment for the year. She said they had a few, and she could have someone show me around. How many bedrooms did I need, were there kids, etc. I explained that there were no kids, and I was unattached, so a one bedroom would be plenty. She looked up at that and kind of sized me up, ìActually, Iím not real busy, so why donít I show them to you myself?î That sounded great to me, so off we went, after she told the gal at the desk that she would be back after lunch. The first two places really didnít appeal, mostly because of the neighborhood, but the third looked good and was affordable. It was in the next town over, but only about a 10 minute drive from the College. She said we could take care of the lease when we got back to the office, and had I had lunch. Lunch went real well, and got well beyond the usual client-real estate agent stuff (whatever that is).

As I left the office, I got up my nerve and asked her if we could have dinner some time after I get settled in. She said she would really like to. We dated a good bit that fall, and really seemed to hit it off. We had a lot of interests in common. The real estate business was her fatherís, but his health was not that good, so she had been gradually taking over much of the business, since her brother had his own business in the city.

One Fall afternoon when we were walking along the old canal path, out of the blue, she asked me why I wore my hair so long. Well, I didnít think it was really long. Now, some people have bad hair days, but I just have bad hair. Itís a light brown, almost blond, but I have cow-licks like you wouldnít believe. My hair is fairly stiff, as well, so when it sticks up, it really sticks up. On the sides, above my ears it tends to stick straight out sideways, I have two of the whirl spots at the crown and a cowlick right in the front on the left side. For years, the solution was simple--buzzcuts all the way. It was that or grow it long enough for gravity to start to have an effect.

The last year of graduate school I was real busy with writing my thesis and the hair kind of got away from me. I decided to grow it out a bit; I figured it might make me look older and more serious for the job search.

It may have been a good idea, as it turned out. The department chairman at C... College was an old timer who believed that faculty should look the part, wear coat and tie, etc. One day I overheard him dumping on a young colleague in another department, ì...he looks like a freshman with that shaved head of his....î (Jeff had a conservative brushcut!) So I kept the hair.

I explained all this to Alex. She shook her head, ìI think you would look a lot better with less hair. I like short hair on guys.î ìAre you going to dump me unless I get a haircut?î I joked. ìNo, of course not. Have you got a picture? I would love to to see what you looked like.î That was an easy one-my driverís license. ìOh yes! thatís a lot better looking. I wish you could do it; maybe this summer?î ìIíll see what happens.î

Well, a couple of things happened in the next month. The first was on a lovely late fall Saturday when Alex called me and said we were going for a ride. We drove out east of town up onto the ridge along a country road. She turned off into a long dirt driveway and pulled up by an old house perched on the side of the hill with a spectacular view. ìWhat do you think of it?î she asked. The house was obviously run down, the barn needed a new roof, but the house had a lot of charm and the location was fantastic. ìItís the old Jones place. It was Mr. Jonesís family home and he and his wife used it for a summer place for years. He died recently and she is going to live with her daughter. They wanted us to put it on the market, but I fell in love with it and worked out a deal. Dadís going to help me with the finances. Come on inside.

The house was still mostly furnished, but with nothing great. The family had taken a few things and left the rest for Alex. It did need a lot of work, especially to make it a year round home. I could see where I would be spending my weekends!

The other thing that happened was that the department chairman, Dr Crawford announced his retirement, which meant that there would be a position available that could be permanent. There would be a search, but the other faculty urged me to apply, which I did. Dr. Crawford would be on the search committee, so I had to stay on my best behavior.

Fixing up the farm was quite a switch from our earlier, more conventional dating. We had had no place to go, other than ëoutí since Alex lived at her parents, and my studio apartment wasnít all that great. I would go over both Saturday and Sunday to work on the house. Sometimes we went out to eat, but after the kitchen was fixed we usually had dinner there and sat around in the evening. Alex stayed there weekends, but I still went back to my apartment. I remember one night we were watching the King & I on TV, and Alex commented on how sexy Yul Brynner was with his shaved head. I had just got a haircut and she rubbed the stubble at the nape of my neck and repeated her earlier comment that I really should get a short haircut.

A week or so later, in early December it started to snow in the afternoon and after dinner I looked out and said ìI better get going while I still can.î Alex came to the door and looked out at the snow that was piling up. She put her arm around me and said ìYouíre not going anywhere tonight. Itís not safe to drive.î I protested, ìBut there is only the one bedroom fixed up and I donít have my pajamas.î Alex pulled me away from the door and shut and locked it, ìOne bedroom is plenty, Mike, and I donít think you will miss your pajamas!î She was right about that!

From then on I only made one round trip to the farm: out on Friday, back on Monday morning. The work on the house was slow, but progressed. I was looking forward to summer when I would have a lot more free time. Towards the end of the semester I got the great news that I had got the faculty appointment. It was for 3 years, with the possibility of becoming permanent if it worked out. When I told Alex she took me out to dinner to celebrate. Maybe it was because our waiter had a really short buzzcut that reminded her, ìHey, now you donít have to worry about Dr. Crawford, and you can get rid of some of that hair. I really agree with you, Mike, you have terrible hair.î ìYeah, I will, but Iím not about to show up in class in the middle of the term with a crewcut. When school is over Iíll do it, I promise!î

I got invited to a scientific meeting for the week right after classes ended and decided to go to that and stop off at my parents on the way back for a few days. When I left Alexís for the airport I told her to take a last look at the hair. She reached in the car window and messed it up for me. In the scramble to grade my final exams, and leave town, the haircut hadnít happened. It would have to wait until I got back, and letting it go a couple of weeks wasnít going to make much difference, it was so long already. When I got home on Friday, I was totally bushed, so I called Alex and told her that I was going to crash and see her on Saturday.

Saturday, as I was turning into the drive, I remembered the haircut. Well, too late now. Alex was glad to see me, but obviously disappointed that I still had my usual mop and then some. ìMike, you were going to get a buzzcut or a brushcut or something. You didnít change your mind, did you? I hope you didnít.î ìNo, I just didnít get around to it. My flight was late yesterday and I was just too bushed. Does it really matter?î She gave a rueful smile and said, ìNo, I guess not, but this week? Promise?î I looked at her and decided to go for it, something that had crossed my mind a few times.

I took my stuff into the house and headed for the back room where we had been stashing all the household stuff that was destined for the yard sale. I dug around until I found the box and carried it out into the kitchen. Alex followed me, curious as to what I was up to. I set the box on the table and opened it. We knew that the Joneses had had dogs, since there was a 4 bay kennel in the shed. One thing we had found in a spare room was a set of clippers. They were practically new, so I had cleaned them up and oiled them before we stashed them. They were labelled as animal clippers, but they were just top of the line Oster clippers with a different label. I grinned at Alex and announced, ìOne haircut coming up!î and pulled out the clippers with a flourish. ìAnd you have got all the stuff you need, and then some. Here are the basic clippers!î I continued pulling out the various pieces, ìAnd here is a 1 inch attachment--you wonít be needing that, I donít think. This 1/2î one will get the driverís license cut, I think, but this 1/4 ì one will be a tad shorter. We even have some different snap on blades for the clippers in addition to the regular ones that are on them. This one with only every other tooth, I guess is for real wooly dogs. I know Iím pretty shaggy, but you wonít need that, either. This #1 blade, thatís getting pretty short; might be useful around the edges. And whatís this, still in their box, brand new and never opened? It says we have the ësurgical blades, cut to 1/200 inchí! I assume you arenít planning brain surgery, but they would sure do a King & I job!î ìMike!! Are you out of your mind? Iím not a barber, I would just make a mess of it!î, Alex spluttered. ìHey, you want my hair short--hereís your chance. I can always wear a hat and I have almost 4 weeks before my summer school class starts. Go ahead and do it. I think itíll be fun. Iím sick and tired of this mop anyway so start mowing. I donít care how it ends up, really!î I took the clipper stuff out to the kitchen, pulled off my shirt and sat down on one of the stools. ìMike! Youíre serious, arenít you? Do you really trust me with a pair of hair clippers? And I donít have a clue how to give you a haircut!î I laughed, ìHey you wanted me to get a buzzcut didnít you? That should be easy. You just put on one of the attachments and have at it. The only hard part might be around the edges. ì Gingerly she picked up the clippers and plugged them in. I reached over the box with the attachments and she picked out the 1/2î one and snapped it on. ìAre you really sure, Mike?î I nodded and she switched on the clippers. She put the blades against my cheek in front of my ear and slowly pushed them up a ways. A fair sized chunk of hair landed in my lap. I guessed I really did need a cut. Alex ran her finger over what the clippers left and grinned. I felt the clippers run up the same path again, but this time they went higher-much higher, all the way up the side of my head.

ìCan I really go this short all over?î ìYouíre the barber! And youíre the one that has to look at it.î ìYeah! Bye bye, mop top!î She lifted up the lock of hair that was hanging in my eyes and plopped the clippers on my forehead. Hair showered down as I felt them run right back down the middle of my head. Alex had a big grin as she worked her way across the top of my head and a serious pile of hair began to accumulate on the floor. The back and sides followed in short order. She rubbed her hand over what was left of my hair and ran the clippers here and there. ìThatís a big improvement, Mike ,but I thought that half an inch would look shorter than it does. And anyway the edges need to be a lot shorter.î ìWell, thereís the 1/4 ì attachment or the #1 blades.î Letís try the attachment first. She snapped it on and I felt the clippers run way up the back of my head. A couple more trips and I felt her rub the bristles.

ìThatís more like what I think a buzzcut should be like. Do you suppose. . . I mean..î I laughed, ìGo for it! This is your party!î ìReally?î I nodded. The clippers started up in front of my ear again and went all the way to the middle of my forehead and then hung a left down the center. And all over my head, buzzing me down as short as when I was a kid. Alex rubbed my head again with a broad smile, ìNow weíre getting somewhere. But the edges really ought to be real short, donít you think?î So do it, already. Take off the attachment.î She handed it to me and snapped on the clippers again. Again I felt them on the back of my head, the bare blades this time and she didnít just go a little ways, but way up again.

ìHey, I thought you were just going to trim around the edges!î She rubbed the back of my head, ìI guess I got a little carried away.î She had a bigger grin than before. ìOk, give me the clippers, Alex!î ìI canít leave it like this, Mike. Youíve got a big bare streak up the back of your head.î ìI know. Give me the clippers!î She handed them over. I snapped off the blades and put them on the counter. I pulled the surgical blades out of their box and snapped them on. ìOk, Anna, I mean Alex. Finish me off! But be careful, these things are sharp!î I thought she might object, but she took the clippers and switched them on, put them against my cheek and slid them up. ìWow! Itís all gone!î And then right up the middle again, slowly and carefully. I reached up and felt where the clippers had gone. There really wasnít any hair left, just the tiniest of fine sandpaper stubble. She worked her way over the rest of my head and finally switched off the clippers and set them down. She ran her hands over my scalp. ìThatís fantastic! And you look great!! So much better than with all that mop sticking out every which way.î I stood up and went over and looked in the mirror. Bald! But it didnít look all that bad. And my Alex loved it! I took off my shirt to shake off the hairs. Alex took it out of my hand, ìCome on, your majesty, Let us Dance!!î And dance we did, right down the hall to the bedroom.

That evening, sitting on the sofa, Alex rubbed my head (for about the hundredth time that day). ìI think you should try really shaving your head, once anyhow, just to see what itís like.î I looked at her and laughed, ìJust once? Right!î I went into the bathroom and got my shaving foam and a fresh razor. ìCome on, dear. You got me this far, you can finish the job!î

Alex likes me with a shaved head and I love having her shave my head. She kept me smooth until right before my summer school class. We decided that I would let my stubble grow during the week and she could shave my head for the weekends. That was our routine during the school semester: stubble til Friday night, and then the surgical blades and the razor. Saturday I got shaved again, early if we were going out, or right before bed if we werenít. I have got used to being hairless and I find that I really look forward to the smooth shaved head on weekends.

Right now, it is nearly the end of the semester, and I have more hair than I have had all year. I am actually going to go to the barber next week to get it tidied up. No, Alex didnít get tired of keeping me bald. The wedding is in two weeks and we figured that for the grandmothers and elderly aunts, a crewcut was better than a baldie. We are coming back to the farm after the wedding and leaving for our honeymoon the next day. You will never guess what we will be doing before we dance off to the bedroom!