My beautiful hair stylist

The most beautiful woman that I know is my hair stylist. I think it's worth the rip-off prices I pay to get my hair cut in order to gaze at her in the mirror. To start with, she has gorgeous blonde hair, and sure you expect a hair stylist to have good hair, but hers looks really great even for a hair stylist. She has a beautiful symmetrical face with a perfect nose and pale blue eyes. She's tall and thin, but thin with muscle; she must work out with weights. During the summer she wore an outfit that displayed her stomach, and it was very flat and toned.

She always wears something fashionable, but never fashionable in a Saks Fifth Avenue way, but rather a bohemian Village way. She has tatoos on both her forearms and a tiny stud in her nose, and normally I'm not into that stuff but somehow on her it looks right, like it belongs there, and it doesn't mar her beauty.

I have a hard time placing her age; I would guess mid to late thirties but she looks really good for her age. It's so sad that a woman who looks that good would never go out with me. I'm just glad she lets me be her client. The first time I saw her I felt like she was slightly condescending, as if I wasn't quite good enough to get my haircut at such a trendy salon, but after I demonstrated that I always give a 20% tip she warmed up to me. And I think she liked the big Christmas tip I gave her in December.

Once I did go out with a girl who was almost as good looking, but in an Upper East Side brunette kind of way. My mother met her mother and that's how I got set up with her on a blind date. I couldn't believe my luck when I discovered my date was beautiful and had a great figure, and she was also the president of her sorority at an Ivy League college. I couldn't figure out why a girl like that would need to go on a blind date. Naturally she ignored my phone calls after our date until I gave up.