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by Ace Superslick

Ever since I can remember I have had a fascination with perfectly slicked men’s hair. Even as a young boy I was fascinated and could not help but look and admire, often walking past the hairdressers or Barbershop hoping to get a glimpse of a man getting his hair cut and wait outside to see what his haircut would turn out like – hoping that it would be slicked and combed perfectly.

When I hit puberty all of a sudden this took on a different dimension and life changed for me, never to be the same again. It was 'hard' coming to terms with the fact that I was turned on by a guy’s slick haircut and it set me apart from the rest of the world I thought. I was unlucky in that in my part of the world there aren’t too many of us and so I was pretty much alone and played quietly with my slick hair by myself in the mirror when no one else was around – often very self conscious about my hair making sure not to touch it in public so as not to arouse suspicion.

As a young adolescent I got the courage to ask my best friend Dale if I could slick back his hair one day – and much to my surprise he agreed. He had deep dark shiny brown hair – my favorite color to this very day. It was an awesome feeling but I was petrified by it. What I found difficult to deal with was that from that day onwards he always wore his hair slicked back perfectly (I could barely look at it I was so petrified). He even slicked (plastered) it back for school where the teacher sent him home and told him to wash the hair cream out of his hair. He and I didn’t talk to each other much after that, even though he came over after school to spend time with me most days. I often just sat silently in front of the TV while he was there and eventually he just got up and left. He didn't know what to say to me either I guess. I was too scared to talk to him after what had happened and not long after that his parents decided to move out of the area, sold their house and we lost contact with each other almost indefinitely. We were separated from each other and rarely did we see or acknowledge each other from that day onwards - even if we passed each other in the street. It was an odd feeling and something that will always be with me – I felt like I lost a part of myself. I kept my deep dark secret right through high school until one fateful day.

Some time long after that, late in high school I got a crush on a teacher. His name was Mr. Daddi and he was a strong and solid man with beautiful dark golden brown blonde hair that glistened perfectly in the sun with perfect slick grooves. He wore a perfect side part which had a perfect flick on the side and neck line that was like it was carved out of the finest stone – it was precise and perfect, squared off at the bottom and always immaculately kept. He also had a fine set of perfectly manicured side burns to match – he dressed like a physical education teacher and always looks smart and squeaky clean. He was my God. I often would loiter around his class room hoping to get a glimpse of his hair and hoping that I might get the chance as much as it was not likely to play with it and comb it – at best watch him meticulously comb it into place. It was perfect all day so I had guessed that at some stage he would comb it.

When he was on yard duty I made sure that I could see him but that he could not see me and as soon as he went into the toilet I would follow soon after hoping to watch him comb his hair – it was all very innocent but in hindsight I guess it was pretty dangerous. As luck would have it one day I walked into the toilets and he had just pulled out his comb and was getting ready to perfect his hair. He said to me ‘good afternoon’ and then began to comb his hair in the mirror… just lightly around the edges at first making sure it was perfect in every way. I was gob smacked… and just stood there stunned. He looked at me and said ‘do you think it needs some more hair cream’. I stood silent for another moment and then said ‘yes’ in a quiet but firm voice. ‘It could always do with some more Mr. Daddi” I said… He looked at me again and then reached into his pocket to reveal a red and black tube of hair cream. He took off the cap and said “I know you like my hair – would you like to watch me comb some more cream into it? - I've seen you watching me and admiring my hair”. He squeezed the tube into his hand and then handed me the tube to hold… he massaged it through his hands and then started to work it into his golden brown hair looking deep into the mirror from every angle until all the white cream had disappeared and soaked into his brilliant glistening hair. He grabbed his comb off the basin below the full length mirror which stretched the breadth of the white shiny bright room and started to comb it straight back like a gleaming deep brown bowling ball which had flickers of gold in it. He looked at me and said “Do you like it like this?” He looked back into the mirror and then started to comb in the sides from the front to make a perfect slick 50’s pomp (he had a slick widows peak which made for a perfect pomp) – which seemed striking on him as I was use to his conservative but perfect side part. He kept on combing and combing to until it was perfect, looking deep into the mirror from every angle and then worked a perfect DA in back until it was carved like marble into the middle. He gave me the comb and asked me if I would mind running the comb on its edge down the middle of his DA to finish its perfection. I was shaking I was so excited – but I managed to run the end of the comb precisely down the middle of the back of his gleaming DA interlocking the glistening grooves wrapping around the side of his scull perfectly meeting in the middle. He looked at me and smiled… “You’re pretty good at that” he said, as he looked into the mirror to inspect his handy work again. He smiled again and started to comb his hair again. "I like to wear a pomp and DA like this on the weekends" he said.

He changed his manner of combing, this time forming his usual perfect side part and perfect flick on one side. It glistened in the light and seemed so perfect and slick it was hard to believe all this had actually happened. He looked at me and said ‘I will keep the DA for you today ok…” and made sure that the DA in back stayed perfectly done as before. “You had better go now – it’s just about time to go back to class” he said. After he checked his hair again from every angle he smiled at me and gave me the comb. “This is yours now – I expect that you will use it everyday from now on – it’s a gift from me to you”. He walked past me and patted me on the shoulder – then ruffled my hair with his hand as he walked out the door. “Looks like you’re going to need it” he said in an assuring voice. “Have a nice day” he added as he disappeared out the door. The tube of hair cream was left on the basin with the cap still off. I walked over and screwed it back on and was about to turn and run out the door to give it back to him – then I stopped. The siren to end afternoon break screamed out across the school grounds – it was time to go back to class. He had left the tube of hair cream for me to use – a gift from him to me. I felt proud and assured, plus about as tall as a house. It was as if my whole life had reached an important point – never to go backwards again or forwards without a silent guiding assuring hand. I did not see Mr. Daddi for the rest of the day and hoped that I would see him at school again the next day…I used a little hair cream in my hair – but not so it was noticeable – even though I wanted to plaster it like there was no tomorrow for… Little did I know - there 'was' no tomorrow. He did not appear that day or the next, or the next after that and or for weeks and weeks after that despite my waiting and hoping. In fact I never saw him ever again form that fateful day onwards. He just vanished off the face of the Earth just as quickly as he appeared. I hoped that one day I would cross his path again somehow and maybe thank him for that day – it changed my life forever and was the beginning of some surprising events that were to take place in my life as I grew into adulthood. I had found my inner peace, my identity and now I was ready to explore the big wide slick word out there… here I come and its going to be slicker than ever!!!

The Slick Day I Met Destiny