nylon smock, the uniform of the beauty parlor's staff. She was short but nicely built, with a pleasant face and short light brown hair, shorter than Chris's, he realized.

He shifted nervously, hoping he would calm down soon. His palms were sweaty and his fingers were cold. A drop of cold sweat was rolling slowly down his back. Suddenly his girdle and slacks seemed very tight and his pulse was pounding in his ears. This was almost as bad as having to use the women's restrooms when he wasn't near his apartment. He decided that men were just naturally uneasy in this distinctively female place.

Mattie interrupted his thoughts, offering her hand. "I'm very glad to meet you Chrissy!" she greeted, smiling brightly. "I'm Mattie. If you'll follow me we will get started."

Chris allowed her to lead him to a large barber-shop-type chair at the far end of the salon which he soon occupied.

She

She examined his head for a moment and frowned. "Oh dear me! You do need help, don't you? Men are such ninnies about their hair." checked a small note pad near the sink beside them. "Let's see now, we have you scheduled for a cut, wash and set. Do you want a manicure too?" "What? Heavens no! I don't need that!" he exclaimed, still trying to digest what was happening to him. What was that she said about 'a wash and set'!

With a shrug Mattie selected scissors and a large comb and busily began to work on his hair. The snipping stopped surprisingly quickly. Then she turned the chair and pushed Chris backward until the back of his neck rested against the contoured sink, dowsed his head with warm water and started shampooing. It smelled like roses! After a double rinse with a lavender scented

conditioner Mattie wrapped his head in a huge fluffy towel and reset the chair upright.

"Rub your hair dry as best you can," she instructed. When he had done so she laid the towel aside and, opening a large drawer, pulled out a box.

Chris stared in astonishment at the curlers and pins she was selecting. "If I had known you were planning to use those I would never have let Mary call you!"

"My dear Chrissy," she responded with a small laugh. "These are just to keep things neat."

While Chris's face turned several different shapes of crimson, Mattie proceeded to deftly fill curlers with hair and pin them into place. By the time she was finished it felt like a porcupine was slowly but gently pressing into his scalp.

"There," she stated as the last hair was wrapped snuggly. "Now we'll put you under the drier for a while. Afterwards, I'll brush it out." She shepherded him across the room to a pleasantly comfortable chair beneath a bulky hair drier. "Would you like a magazine?"

"How long will this take?" he asked as she set the controls and placed the hood over his head. A brisk and noisy breeze of warm air was blowing down across his face, shoulders and back.

"About twenty minutes," she answered loudly and walked away.

ears.

For a few minutes he simply listened to the sounds around him, the chatter of several womens' voices, running water, muffled as they were by the drone of the machine that imprisoned his scalp and After a few minutes of staring at the other people in the room, even though none of them seemed to care that he was even there, his selfconsciousness returned with a vengeance and his eyes fell to the stack of magazines. But he soon found that everything was for women, Ladie's