Leaning down, he snips a bit and then flicks it with a comb. Spraying you with the bottle of water, he asks you something that, if you hadn't been too preoccupied, you would have realised the question was rather feminine.
Answering right away, the hairdresser continues to chat with you and you are able to follow the conversation and before you know it, the hairdresser announces, "Done," and removes the cover from off your front, turns and begins to sort his various combs, scissors and razor blades.
Looking into the mirror, you gasp out as it dawns on you that the hairdresser didn't cut your hair, just made it look even more feminine, while evening out some of the uneven parts.
Gasping, mouth opening and closing, unable to find the right words, you turn and storm out of the hairdresser, torn between thinking your current haircut looks really cute and that it is utterly despicable because of how feminine it makes you look.
Muttering to yourself, clutching the book of coupons, you suddenly stop, realising that you left your bags with your clothes back at the hairdressers. Looking into a window, realising that you have a coupon for this store, you debate on whether it is worth your time and energy to return. As you do so, you find yourself unconsciously checking out the various bras, panties and swimwear on display, mentally telling yourself, "I would look really cute in those," as you thumbed through the book of coupons.