Janet couldn't help stealing looks at his reflection in every window and shiny surface he passed on the street. He knew he was being too obvious about it, but he couldn't shake off the distracting impulse to examine his masculine persona.
It was a huge change to get used to. But on the other hand, it was strangely invigorating to accept it. The more he saw of himself, the more he liked it and the less he felt uncomfortable with his present state.
There was one aspect he couldn't quite get over, however. It took a block and a half to realize what it was. He was so deep in thought, he almost knocked over an older woman.
Turning sideways as he skipped backward, narrowly avoiding her, he saw her look up at him with fear. He knew the look in her eyes all too well.
"S-sorry! I'm sorry! I wasn't trying anything!"
She didn't seem placated at his frantic apology. Her hand was shoved deep in her pocket, clutching something. She continued walking, but kept her glare on him for the first few steps before looking ahead and continuing on her way. "Punk."
Janet couldn't think. He stumbled in his clunky boots over to the side of the nearest building and leaned his shoulder against it. Brushing some hair out of his face, he tried to shake off the encounter. It was difficult, because he knew from experience that woman would probably spend the next few hours--at least--looking over her shoulder. And it was his fault.
"I've got to be more careful." The deepness of his voice was still shocking to hear. Even though tinged with uneasiness and regret, the bass had such richness and solidity. He moved to the nearest window to get another look at himself.
Someone inside waved to him. Janet peered past his reflection and saw a male hairdresser, towel in hand, smiling invitingly, then wiped down an empty barber chair.
Janet sheepishly opened the door to the hair studio. His boots clopped pleasantly on the trademark checkerboard tile. Light rock music piped from a radio somewhere in the back.
"Welcome welcome," the hairdresser greeted Janet. "My that's some great hair."
"Uh... thank you." He stood there a moment, unsure of what else to say or why he came in.
"You're not looking to chop it all off, are you?"
That definitely didn't appeal to Janet. He was proud of how well he kept his hair. But... that was when he was a she. As it was now, the long hair and goatee were only enhancing an appearance he wasn't sure was truly him.
"No. I'm... just looking for... a trim."
The hairdresser picked up on his hesitation and cocked his head. "Are you looking to do anything with the goatee?"
"Keep it," he said more quickly than he expected. He really didn't want a shave. Without the goatee, his long hair and bangs would certainly make him look feminine, and he was reveling in his newfound masculinity. "Just trim it all up a bit... nice and even."
"You got it!" he said with a twinkle in his eye. He slapped the back of the chair he'd just cleaned off from his last client. As Janet settled into it, the hairdresser grabbed and unfurled a black smock on top of him.
"Want any product?"
"No, thanks." Janet didn't mean to keep his replies so curt. He was normally quite gabby with hairdressers, but he wasn't sure how to broach conversation here. He was an unfamiliar man, and Janet was in an unfamiliar body... he didn't exactly want to relate the week he'd had, visiting his friends' sorority house, among other things, or complain about the dude who made a pass at him while he was at work.
A few generous spritzes of water to bring the brown locks into compliance, and the brushing began. Janet was so deep in thought trying to figure out what to say, that the trim was half done before he knew it. The man carefully snipped off just about half an inch off the ends, enough to take care of the split ends and give his curtain of hair a crisp edge.
"You're a lucky man to have hair this cooperative. I tried growing my hair a few times, but it just curled and curled and curled."
Janet noted that he was mostly bald up top, and the short salt-and-pepper hair around the sides and back of his head was indeed curly. "... Did you try straightening it?" Was all he could think to ask. He immediately felt dumb blurting it out.
The man interrupted his hair brushing to make a dismissive wave with the brush. "Bah. It wouldn't have taken, anyway." Janet sensed the self-disappointment in his voice and felt sad for him. He looked just fine as he was, but he clearly had a bad case of the 'What if's.
Then he noticed that his own hair was different. He swiveled his head left and right for a closer look in the mirror.
"Try to keep straight ahead. I might not have scissors in my hand right now, but you want your locks nice and neat, right?"
"Sorry. Just... Maybe I wasn't paying attention, but did you use any dye?"
"No. Just water and a trim, like you asked. Do you want dye? Some colorful edging would look great with this black mane."
"Maybe another time..." Janet peered at his black hair. It was clearly not brown anymore. It was jet black. And as he watched the hairdresser brush it, it started to look thicker. He was about to ask him to stop, but realized it was pointless. It had to be the boots.
The man finished with Janet's hair and started working on the goatee. "I'll use the number 4... that will take the least amount off while evening it out." He put a clip on an electric razor and Janet heard loud buzzing as he swept it under his chin, around his lips, beneath his nose... and up the side of his jaw... where there was just bare skin until after the razor moved over it, leaving behind a fresh bed of hairs as black and thick as his goatee.
The man worked the razor all the way up to his ears, merging his goatee with his hair. He repeated this on the other side of Janet's face until Janet sported a full, dark beard. It was immaculate.
A minute later, the smock was off and Janet was toweled down to get the stray hairs off his face and neck. He stroked his hand through his new beard. He felt strangely more mature and composed. The feelings of unease he had about his look before he came in here were completely gone. He still had somewhat feminine bangs covering his forehead, but with the much thicker head of hair and the beard, they didn't outweigh the masculine vibes by a long shot.
He thanked the hairdresser, genuinely, and tipped him as well as he could afford.
"Keep taking care of that hair, pal. Come again...but hopefully not too soon," he winked at Janet after handing back his credit card. As Janet took the card, he thought the hairs on the back of his hand were covering more skin than before.
He was so preoccupied with his own changes that he didn't notice the hairdresser's head was now fully grown-in with youthful, somewhat straighter hair. The oblivious Janet threw his leather coat back on and strutted outside.