6.10.06
ST: LN 15 Bodyguard Blues
This week saw some excitement in the hotel. Some famous female star was coming to stay ( and because she was incognito, I can’t tell you who it was. However, I can say that her underwear has points and revolving doors. ‘Nuff said.)
I wasn’t there when she arrived, but that night Joe gave me the lowdown. Seems she paraded in straight from the airport, and was not to be disturbed. Then she sent out for some local ‘bodyguards’. Joe had a wonderful afternoon escorting some of the best looking hunks in town to her door, and then guiding most of them back down when they didn’t measure up.
Apparently, she had finally settled on some big bit of beef with a ponytail, who had been up there for almost an hour. Now that the excitement was over, though, there was not much to do except make a cup of coffee and settle into some study for the night. Not so, my dear readers. Would I be writing this unless some pretty interesting things then occurred? Of course not!
So here I am, sipping coffee and reading Simon LeVay’s latest stuff on sexual deviance (nothing to do with us, though), when the lift opened and out stepped what I thought must be the bodyguard. He was dressed in a dark suit, and his shiny black hair was tied back into a ponytail. He had a neatly clipped moustache and beard as well, all well groomed. He seemed very neat, and though he wasn’t the biggest man I had ever seen, he did have an air of strength and menace about him that would make most muggers think twice. Or thrice.
He walked over to the door of my shop, and I had a moment of apprehension, wondering if I had looked at him the wrong way or something. He didn’t look like he needed a cut, and I tried to think of some other reason a trained people-puncher would be coming toward me.
However, it turns out that the Lady upstairs had sent him down to get his beard trimmed. She preferred the goatee look, with the hair left only on the lip and around the mouth, with the rest of the jaw line shaved. I asked him whether she was worth it, but he said he was doing it for the three hundred dollars a day.
I couldn’t argue with that. It didn’t take me long to shave off the offending bits of hair, and when I was finished, he looked even more sinister, like some evil hypnotist or mad scientist.
He told me to put it on the Lady’s bill, then he went back upstairs. I thought that was it, but about ten minutes later, he was back down.
"Seems I look too unfriendly," was all he said. I set to and took off the bottom part of his beard around the chin, and just left the moustache. This made him look totally different. Except for the suit, the ponytail and the moustache made him look like a biker.
After another ten minutes, he was back again. This time, I took off the moustache (and applied much needed moisturizer to his face). We undid the band that was holding his hair back, and sort of fluffed it up. It hung over his shoulders, and without the facial hair, he looked a lot younger and softer.
This was her opinion too. He was back again, with instructions to look more macho and tougher.
I took a lot off the ends, as the best solution. I then added lots of gel to give him more of the DA look. I thought this was one way for him to look tougher without sacrificing anything more than he had to.
Needless to say, he came back.
This time we washed most of the stuff out of his hair, and he ended up with what I call the FBI cut. Neat, no nonsense, and easily recognizable as something only a government agent trained to kill would wear.
I didn’t see how much further we could go, but he was sent back again. By this stage, it had turned into some farcical game, with the bodyguard taking it all in stride. I hoped he was padding his bill, and charging her for double overtime.
This time I went for the GI cut. I mean, he had already lost so much of his hair, I thought a buzz cut wouldn’t be too much. He actually looked like an ex-marine as he left for the final time.
I figured she must have finally settled for this military look, but Joe informed me the next day that he had seen her leaving with the bodyguard, and the guy was as bald as a baby’s bum. Seems she went the rest of the way herself.
Listen, if you do happen to see a ton of steak walking around with a ponytail and beard, tell him Joe and I will chip in for the three hundred dollars to do it all again. Well, with only a few minor changes. Okay, make it four hundred.
I wasn’t there when she arrived, but that night Joe gave me the lowdown. Seems she paraded in straight from the airport, and was not to be disturbed. Then she sent out for some local ‘bodyguards’. Joe had a wonderful afternoon escorting some of the best looking hunks in town to her door, and then guiding most of them back down when they didn’t measure up.
Apparently, she had finally settled on some big bit of beef with a ponytail, who had been up there for almost an hour. Now that the excitement was over, though, there was not much to do except make a cup of coffee and settle into some study for the night. Not so, my dear readers. Would I be writing this unless some pretty interesting things then occurred? Of course not!
So here I am, sipping coffee and reading Simon LeVay’s latest stuff on sexual deviance (nothing to do with us, though), when the lift opened and out stepped what I thought must be the bodyguard. He was dressed in a dark suit, and his shiny black hair was tied back into a ponytail. He had a neatly clipped moustache and beard as well, all well groomed. He seemed very neat, and though he wasn’t the biggest man I had ever seen, he did have an air of strength and menace about him that would make most muggers think twice. Or thrice.
He walked over to the door of my shop, and I had a moment of apprehension, wondering if I had looked at him the wrong way or something. He didn’t look like he needed a cut, and I tried to think of some other reason a trained people-puncher would be coming toward me.
However, it turns out that the Lady upstairs had sent him down to get his beard trimmed. She preferred the goatee look, with the hair left only on the lip and around the mouth, with the rest of the jaw line shaved. I asked him whether she was worth it, but he said he was doing it for the three hundred dollars a day.
I couldn’t argue with that. It didn’t take me long to shave off the offending bits of hair, and when I was finished, he looked even more sinister, like some evil hypnotist or mad scientist.
He told me to put it on the Lady’s bill, then he went back upstairs. I thought that was it, but about ten minutes later, he was back down.
"Seems I look too unfriendly," was all he said. I set to and took off the bottom part of his beard around the chin, and just left the moustache. This made him look totally different. Except for the suit, the ponytail and the moustache made him look like a biker.
After another ten minutes, he was back again. This time, I took off the moustache (and applied much needed moisturizer to his face). We undid the band that was holding his hair back, and sort of fluffed it up. It hung over his shoulders, and without the facial hair, he looked a lot younger and softer.
This was her opinion too. He was back again, with instructions to look more macho and tougher.
I took a lot off the ends, as the best solution. I then added lots of gel to give him more of the DA look. I thought this was one way for him to look tougher without sacrificing anything more than he had to.
Needless to say, he came back.
This time we washed most of the stuff out of his hair, and he ended up with what I call the FBI cut. Neat, no nonsense, and easily recognizable as something only a government agent trained to kill would wear.
I didn’t see how much further we could go, but he was sent back again. By this stage, it had turned into some farcical game, with the bodyguard taking it all in stride. I hoped he was padding his bill, and charging her for double overtime.
This time I went for the GI cut. I mean, he had already lost so much of his hair, I thought a buzz cut wouldn’t be too much. He actually looked like an ex-marine as he left for the final time.
I figured she must have finally settled for this military look, but Joe informed me the next day that he had seen her leaving with the bodyguard, and the guy was as bald as a baby’s bum. Seems she went the rest of the way herself.
Listen, if you do happen to see a ton of steak walking around with a ponytail and beard, tell him Joe and I will chip in for the three hundred dollars to do it all again. Well, with only a few minor changes. Okay, make it four hundred.
Labels: LNHB
# posted @ 12:15 pm 
