Soaped up... Lathered... rinsed. Andlike most shampoo bottles say, "repeat".Ok, let's sit you back up. And the chair was raised and locked back intoth... upright position.We'll dry this out a bit.A towel was produced and my hair was gently but firmly towel-dried...The stylist combed my now towel-dried hair out again ? with the samepart down the middle.I'll be right back... I gotta mix up a new ?batch'.And with that I heard footsteps walking to the rear of the shop, andnext heard that tale-tale. ." He said sounding nervous as well.I knew what he meant. My mother probably had picked out some of my sisters clothes for me to wear today. That was something that I definitely did not feel that I needed to experience today. In fact, at this point I wouldn't care much if I never saw a piece of female clothing for the rest of my life. That would just be too much. It would just feel like I was giving up all former aspects of my life, and adopting something totally foreign and scary. At least it. More

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