There Is Something About Mary

Can u loosen your shirt a bit sir ?

I do as i am told & unbutton my shirt (not fully, just the top 2 buttons). She pulls my collar back & slips a small towel underneath covering my neck & shoulders. I close my eyes & sink deeper in the chair, readying myself to be pampered over a wash,cut & blow under the dexterous hands of my hair stylist (??). Calling her just a barber somehow doesn’t seems fair. I guess, an average barber doesn’t dress up in a noodle strap top & bum hugging denim shorts. Nor does an average barber displays a hint of cleavage and generous amounts of waxed legs. I try & be polite enuff not to linger my gaze for far too long, but in the finitesimal moment that my eyes gets locked on her bosom, I can’t help but notice a delectable black mole placed strategically on her left boob. Its hard to resist the temptation of inspecting (the mole I mean, not the boob) a bit longer, but years of practiced restraint comes to my rescue & much against my inquisitive nature, I close my eyes firmly shut.

She sprays few squirts of shampoo on her palms and starts spreading it over my scalp. She digs her nails hard enuff for me to be awakened from my self induced mock slumber. My eyes are open once again as I inspect her maneuvers from the mirror. The pain induced by her sharp nails is pleasurable & she is kind enuff to alternate between using her nails, knuckles & the soft tips of her fingers. She slowly picks up the pace, therez no stopping her as she strums up a tune by tapping her fingers playfully on top of my head.

Outside the salon, a board announces invitingly “Light Massage Included”. Am about to be treated to one. Her hands now move down towards the base of my neck & shoulder blades. She comments about how hard my muscles are underneath & asks me if I am feeling stressed lately. I nod in affirmative & compliment her by saying that I am already feeling relaxed thanx to her deft ministrations. She perks up & works even more furiously on dissolving the knots in my shoulder.

With a tap on my shoulders she signals me to move towards the washing area. I lie down on my back.. resting my head in the sink (??) . She comes up from behind, i can see the top of her head from my prostate position. She has a pleasant smile on her face. I guessestimate her to be about 25/26 years old. She starts washing my hair. The shampoo is drained off off under the steady stream of cold shower. Some of the lather flies off and settles on my eye lids, she is alert to that, and wipes it off gently using the corner of the towel.

She squeezes out the excess water from the tips of my hair..the step that follows next is kinda silly (if u are guy i.e). She wraps a huge pink towel around my wet head so that water doesn’t drip onto my shirt. I get up & make my way back to the chair, mindful of not making eye-contact with anyone. She once again takes her position behind my back, removes the towel & rubs off excess water from my hair.

How do you want it Sir ??
Short at the sides & back, medium at the top.

I give her my usual 1 line brief on my hair style. She ruffles my hair lovingly and says that I have lovely hair. I can handle any other compliment, but when someone says nice things about my hair, then I really know that the person is lying. I don’t blame her really, its all part of her customer service talk I guess. I don’t feel like challenging her compliment & instead I just roll my eyes & laugh it off amidst an expression which says “Awww C’mon. U are kidding right ?”. She is in mood for banter, i decide to play along.

Finished reading Ur newspaper ?? Any interesting news ??
Nothing much really, I just scanned the sports section.
Yalla, guys always like that, reading back to the front. I always like front to back (giggles)
U have done some hair styling course ??
Course ? yes 2 years course..
2 years !! U mean U go to class & cut hair everyday for 2 years ??
No lah.. not for 2 years.. Cut hair for 6 months only.

I am convinced that she has what it takes to trust my hair in her hands, so I don’t probe further on course syllabus, how much marks she scored, how much experience she has etc etc.

Last time there was a lady here, I use to always cut my hair from her.. Don’t see her these days.
U like her ah ?? (giggles)
Aiyaah not like her, as in “like her”. I like the way she cut my hair.
Same lah.. why U so shy ?
Not shy laah, just polite. Funny that I never got around to ask her name..
U didn’t ask me my name too..
I was going to, but how can I ask direct ??
Why meh ?? U can ask me direct, No problem..I very friendly leh..
Alright then.. what’s Ur name ??
Mary.. Nice ah ??
Mary.. Hmmmmmm.. (I am undecided, what to say next)
Say lah U don’t like Mary.. I don’t like myself. Its no good..
Why ?? people call you Mother Mary ?? is that why U don’t like it ??
Actually I was just bluffing. Mary is not my real name. What’s Ur name ?? Are U Peter ?? or John ??

By now I had got a fair idea that this Mary..or whoever that she is, she is taking me for a ride. But i decide to keep it real & tell her my real name. She tries to pronounce it & fails. I help her by making her repeat after me slowly.

I am Agnes. (She announces freshly in a more serious tone)
Go ahead, say it..let me hear how U call my name..
Agnes..(I utter in a soft tone) do I say it right ??
“Ummmm Yes” (she beams..)
Do U have a Chinese name as well ??
(She nods in the mirror, and says) “Jing Jing” ..
Agnes Jing Jing.. (i say it aloud much to her amusement & delight.She claps her hands in approval)
What’s your Chinese name ??
Aiyaah how can ?? I am Indian. I don’t have any Chinese name.

We are now on home stretch, my hair is almost done, she is just snipping away a hair here.. a lock there. By this time I have told her that I don’t have a wife.. I cook.. I have lots of patience.. I work in IT. No, I don’t make/sell anti-virus software or computer games. In short, over the hair cut she has managed to extract half of my life story.

Next time when I come, I will look for You.
Why meh ?? U like me ??
No lah.. I like the way U cut my hair..
My colleague also good meh. Same team. Just like Ur office, when U not around your colleague covers for you. Same here, when I not around my colleague cut your hair. Teamwork laah..
No laah,Ur work different. More artistic laah. More skill laah. No two hands are same.. (I insist, that next time I want her to cut my hair, no one else will do. The “artistic” compliment seems to have its desired effect. She is pleased)

Can Can.U look for me. No problem. Remember, I am Agnes haah !! don’t look for Mary (winks).

I smile, pay the money to Agnes’s boss & walk out. Therez no tipping system in Singapore, so Agnes missed out on a generous tip. I think she definitely deserved it. As I walked back towards home I was feeling bit light headed. I guess that was partly because of the head & shoulder massage, partly because of the hair cut & mostly because of Agnes’s playful silly banter. Next time around, she wants to color my hair in shades of dark chocolate, she feels it would look good on me. I can’t wait for my hair to grow long again.

Moral Of The Story : This moral is only for the men out there. If u are cutting your hair from a (male) barber, then you are really missing out a lot in life. Believe me guys, Uni-sex salons are the best things to have happened in the evolution of ‘man’kind .