There is one big catch about having short hair. It absolutely takes forever to grow it out again, and in the process you have to go through these ugly phases, when your hair looks absolutely terrible no matter what you do. I cut my hair short when I was 9 years old. It had been down to my shoulders, but short hair was in then, especially for active children I was an incredibly active Tomboy and short hair was perfect for me. I loved it. It was easy. I kept getting it cut shorter all the time, until it was as short as the boys in the neighborhood. Today, some 20 years later, it's still almost exactly the same. I've let the top and bangs grow a bit, and with a blow dryer can make it look fairly feminine in a cute sort of way. But the back is always cut short above my collar, and the sides short around my ears. For the longest time I've wanted to grow it out, to see what I'd look like with longer hair. Nothing too long, that would take forever and I really don't think I'd look good with long hair, but down to my shoulders would be nice. Something I could put in a pony tail, maybe learn to french braid, and be able to put up or curl or something for a fancy occasion. My hair is very shiny and dark and thick and I personally think it would look wonderful long.
The trouble is I have no patience, and every time I let it go for a couple of months I get to one of those ugly stages, and it drives me nuts and I go back in and get my same cut. I feel like crap afterwards and immediately set out to grow it long, but then comes the ugly stage and I change my mind. I'm telling you this because right now is one of those time. It's Friday. I just left the shop of my stylist, Lynn, who once again cut the inch or two of new growth off and returned me to my same short look. She doesn't even try to talk me out of it anymore. She knows me and how predictable I am. I can't believe my husband puts up with it all. I know he'd rather my hair be longer. All men seem to like longer hair. I see the way he looks at women with long hair but never press him on it. He loves me utterly and I love him, and he never lets his disappointment show. I'm sure by now the only real surprise to him would be if I actually did let it grow.

Well, that was me only 6 months ago. That gives you some idea who I was. I put that in the past tense because that day was the strange one that started it all, and I was moments from the event that would change my life. After getting that haircut I went home, stopping at the market for groceries. I was more frustrated with myself than usual that day. I had actually lasted 3 months this time before giving in and getting my hair cut. I thought I was going to make it. My friends actually got a little excited about the prospect that time. I ran my hand along the freshly cut style, with the back in a taper so short it required clippers, and the sides well above my ears. My bangs were now back above my eyebrows. Having them stabbing into my eyes was the final straw that sent me back to Lynn. It was exactly the same cut I usually got, but it just seemed shorter that day because of all the hair that I left behind. Anyway, I was walking the aisle of the Supermarket which was surprisingly empty. That never really struck me until later, but looking back on it I might have been their only customer at the time. As I walked down one aisle there was a little old lady there, the typical grandma from a Norman Rockwell painting, who had a table with a tray of free samples. It was for some new brand of Fortune Cookie.

"Would you care to try one of our cookies?"

Never one to turn away a free sample, and a lover of cookies, I thanked her and took one from her tray. I cracked it open and started munching it as I unraveled "my" fortune. It tasted the same as every other Fortune Cookie. I read the note.

"Your next wish will come true."
"Yeah, right!" I mumbled out loud.

This was the dumbest fortune I had ever read, and I've had my share of Chinese food. But to amuse myself I made a wish.

"OK, if my next wish will come true, I wish my hair would grow a whole lot faster than it does now."

At that very instant the taste of the cookie in my mouth changed to a horribly bitter taste. I almost gagged but with no place to spit it out I just swallowed it. I dropped the rest of the cookie in my hand on the floor. The elderly lady just smiled at me knowingly as I walked away in search of a water fountain to wash the terrible taste from my mouth. As I went through the check-out stand I talked to the cashier.

"I hate to say it but those free Fortune Cookie samples are absolutely terrible."
"What free samples?"
"The ones that little old lady is giving out...."
The clerk was still at a loss.
"....on aisle 9."
"I'm sorry Mam, but nobody has been here giving out free samples all day."
"Well that's crazy! I just ate one not 5 minutes ago."
"Can you take me to her because no one should be giving out anything."

I led the clerk to the aisle only to find the lady gone without a trace. No table, not even a crumb on the floor. By then I was really confused and even a little scared. Had I been poisoned from some sicko escapee from the retirement home or something?

"I swear to you she was here just minutes ago. I dropped part of it on the floor because the taste almost made me ill."
"I don't know what to say Mam. Would you like me to fill out some type of report?"
"I don't know! No, don't worry. It's been a real bad day. Maybe I'm just imagining things. I'm sorry to be such a pain."

I returned to the front, finished checking out and drove home.

I finally got home, put away the groceries, then went to brush my teeth and try and rid my mouth of the cookie aftertaste. The whole event was still kind of spooky. I looked at my freshly cut hair again. I had to do a double-take. Either I was imagining things, or it looked longer than in the salon just a few hours ago. It didn't seem quite as short on the sides, and I swore my bangs were above my eyebrows that afternoon. Now they were just touching my eyebrows. I felt the tapered back. That still felt the same I figured. I looked at the back by holding up a mirror. It might have been a little longer too, but I couldn't be sure. When Steve, my husband, finally got home we hugged and kissed and he ran his hands through my shorter hair.

"I'm sorry."
"For what?" he said.
"For getting it cut again. I know you were hoping I'd let it grow this time."
"Honey, you know by now it doesn't make any difference to me. I'm in love with you, not your hair."
With that we hugged and kissed again. He was so understanding. What a great husband I had. After dinner we went out and took in a movie. It was great escapist entertainment and a pleasant evening. Late that night, while washing up for bed, I again surveyed my hair. Now I was sure I was losing my mind. My bangs were now covering my eyebrows. The sides seemed just a fraction longer too. The band of exposed skin between the hair and the top of my ear was definitely smaller. Then my husband swooped in behind me, picked me up and brought me to bed. My mind wouldn't be on my hair for the rest of the night.

The next morning we slept in. It was Saturday, so we felt no guilt. Not until it was nearly noon did I get up and shower. When I started in on my hair with the blowdryer, I was stunned to find, when wet, that my hair reached to the top of my ears on the sides and below my eyebrows in front. I'd have to get on Lynn next time for not cutting it as short as she was asked.

That night we went out to dinner. I could swear my hair looked longer still than merely 6 hours earlier. I opted to part my hair on the side as I often did, and gelled the top over to one side so nothing fell on my forehead. It was kind of a butch look, but with a low cut dress was one that always brought a smile to my husbands face. Doing something different with my hair always got a reaction from him. With hair as short as mine that wasn't easy to do but I tried.

While getting ready for church Sunday morning I knew I wasn't imagining things. My hair was growing at an astonishing rate. It was now covering the tips of my ears again, and my bangs were sneaking into my line of vision once more. The hairs in back, once so short they were just stubble, were now long enough to grab. I figured it had already grown an inch in only two days. Not that I really minded at all, but I was shaking a bit wondering if I were dreaming, or sick, or something. Then I remembered the event in the store. Could it be that my wish after eating that Fortune Cookie was actually coming true? No, that was ridiculous to believe not to mention impossible. Maybe it was just some kind of temporary growth spurt or something.

By the time I went to work on Monday my hair was the same length it had been prior to my haircut that past Friday. Some of my co-workers questioned me.

"I thought you were getting it cut last Friday. Does this mean you're actually going to let it grow?"
"I don't know, maybe."

I couldn't tell them the truth. They'd think I was crazy. But that did plant the seed that this freak growth spurt might be the perfect thing to let me get past that initial ugly phase. I didn't believe it would continue but figured to enjoy it while it lasted. By the next morning I eagerly awoke to see if the growth continued. It did. By my figuring it was growing about 1/2 inch per day. Amazing, since it normally took a month to grow that long. My bangs were once again poking me in the eyes and the top third of my ears were now covered. I gelled my hair to the side again and slicked the sides back. The look would be a bit different for me at work but I was excited about it. It wouldn't affect my job any since no callers ever saw me. My husband smiled at me at the breakfast table.

"My, don't you look sharp." If he noticed how fast my hair was growing he didn't mention it.
"I like your hair that way. It looks.....longer than normal."
"Thanks, I like it too."

Co-workers galore also complimented me, but none came forward noting that my hair was growing extremely fast. At this rate they would know soon enough.

The next day my hair was covering 1/2 of my ears, and brushing the collar in back. My bangs were now covering my eyes. I curled them under with my curling iron so they shrank back to eyebrow level, and spritzed them in place. They looked great, and so different. The sides I curled under a bit but let cover the tops of my ears. I looked very different. This time my husband had to say something.

"Honey, I know this sounds stupid, but I'm sure your hair has grown a lot since last Friday."
I let him in on how right he was. I didn't mention the Fortune Cookie incident to him though.
"I don't know why it's happening, but I really like this new look on you."

With that he reached up and touched it careful not to mess it up, then planted an absolutely passionate kiss on my lips. Co-workers were figuring something was up too, and much of the day was spent talking about my hair and how fast it was growing. I didn't tell anyone about the Fortune Cookie except Carol, my best friend. As first she thought I was making it all up but had to admit something was up. My hair was living proof.

"This is kind of like the X-files meets Vidal Sassoon isn't it?" She always had a quirky sense of humor.
"So what are you going to do?"
"I don't know, just enjoy it I guess. For all I know tomorrow it might all fall out."
Carol ran her hand over her own hair, which was in a cute bob.
"Maybe I should start roaming super-markets looking for Grandma Moses and her cookies. If she does exist she could make a fortune with those things."
I reached up and tugged on my hair.
"She has to exist. This is visual proof."
"Well girl, if it keeps growing like this we're going to have to get you on Oprah."
We both laughed at that one. That evening my husband was all over me. He was constantly touching my hair, and I loved the sensation of his fingers running through it. We made the most passionate love we had in years.

The next day my bangs were too long to keep out of my way, so I again gelled them back off my face. I went to lunch with Carol. My hair once again was the hot topic.

"I was wondering if you would trim my bangs for me. They're a little too long now."
"Sure, if you want. You realize of course you'll have to trim them almost every day."
"So what are you saying?"
"Duh! Let them grow out. It will only take about a week at this rate."

"Not have bangs! I've always had bangs!"
"You've also always had short hair. The times they are a-changin'. Go with it. If you don't like it then cut them again."
"I'm not sure what to do with my hair in the meantime."
"Oh Goodie! A cry for help. I was kind of planning for this. Come here."
We both went to the restroom and Carol unveiled the contents of her purse. It was like a traveling beauty parlor, with  shampoo, blow dryer, curling iron, the works.
"I'm going to transform you girl!"
She washed the gel out of my hair, then used the blow dryer and curling iron. By the time she was done I had a center part for the first time in probably 20 years, and all the hair was fluffed a bit with curl and volume. I looked so different and great. Even the shorter hairs in back had some bounce. It no longer looked like an ugly stage.
"Wow, this looks great."
"I figure you can do something like this for another week or so until you get it cut."
"Why would I want to get it cut?"
"If you're going to grow it out you'll need a bob or something to get all the ends even. Then you can say goodbye to ugly stages."
"Who says I'm growing it long?"
"Come on Pam, you've wanted it long forever and now you've got the chance of a lifetime. You know you will."
"I suppose.... (I looked at myself again in the mirror)...although I do like this look."

That night Steve couldn't stop looking at me. He was alive with passion, and we did it on the dining room floor for the first time in memory, then again later that night in bed, for HOURS. I never realized what a difference it would make in him.

At the end of the week I took Carol's advice, went to the local shop (not with Lynn. She would never understand how my hair grew so fast) and got my hair cut into a cute bob just below my ear level. All of my hair was now one length, and my bangs were no more. It was a totally different look for me and I kind of liked it. The stylist curled it under and it had lots of movement and shine and life. It was too short to put up or into a ponytail, but I knew in another week that wouldn't be the case. I went home and got dressed up for my husband. We'd had the most intense sex all week, and I was anxious to see what he would think of this new look. As hoped, he went crazy over it, and it was well into the next morning before either of us, completely drained with smiles on our faces, got to sleep.

I worried that this was all too good to be true and went to see my doctor, hoping my other bodily functions weren't as  accelerated as my hair growth. One night I had a dream that I was actually aging one month every day. But all the tests came back fine. I was completely normal and healthy, just with hair that was growing real fast. Each day it was a little longer, and by the end of the next week it was to my shoulders. My husband had taken a very active interest in it, and he brushed and played with it almost as often as I did. I never washed it myself as he was more than willing to be my shampoo guy. I was going through shampoo at a rate I'd never imagined. We would sit at night for hours playing with it, trying different braids and styles and curling it and putting it up. Sometimes we'd even go crazy and crimp it or tease it like mad and plaster it with hairspray. If it got a little damaged he would trim it for me, us both knowing that by the next day it would have grown back. It became an enticing hobby for us both. I loved his touch and it always made me hot when he'd play with it. It would immediately arouse him too. Sometimes I'd suck on his cock as he brushed or teased my hair. That would drive us both absolutely mad. Eventually, went both of us could hold back no longer, the evening would end with incredibly passionate sex. It was as if our marriage was reborn and now no couple from romantic novels could keep up with us. I had no desire to cut my hair, and soon it was well below my shoulders. By the end of a month it was to the middle of my back It stayed basically this length for a while as we tried different looks with it. We cut layers in it, angled the front significantly shorter than the back, even a fringe of soft bangs again. But after a month we both decided we wanted it all one length again, and wanted to just let it grow. The longer it grew, the hotter our lovemaking became. I never realized what I was missing out on by keeping my hair short all those years. I knew, even if this amazing growing stopped, I would never have short hair again. We went out often, especially to places we could dress up. Steve would be my hairdresser creating magnificent arrangements every time. While I always thought long hair was limiting, it seemed the greater it's length, the more possibilities it created. Suddenly we were going to the theatre instead of movies, museums instead of watching television, and symphony concerts and art galleries. Our lives were broadening and more fulfilled. We had become very different people together, and loving it.

Once, when I was walking through the shopping mall, a stunned Lynn came running up to me. My hair at that point was just to my waist.
"No wonder you haven't been in the shop. These are great extensions!"
She ran her hands through my hair, at first casually, and then desperate to find how the extensions had been done.
"My God, it seems perfectly natural. Who did them?"
"It's my own hair Lynn."
"Yeah, and I'm the queen. OK, if you don't want to tell me I understand. I'm hurt, but I understand." She walked off pouting. It was the last time I ever saw her.

By the end of the next month I could sit on my hair. I was learning that long hair did have it's drawbacks, as I had to be careful going through doorways, getting in and out of cars, making sure it didn't get too close to the stove, and keeping it out of things in shops. But it was well worth the trouble. I absolutely loved my long hair, as did my husband, and just wanted to see how long it would grow.

By the end of the 5th month it was to my knees. Everywhere I went I was flooded with compliments. I had appeared in several hair shows as a feature model. Imagine me, a model! And looking at the pictures of those shows I held my own with all those other gorgeous women. While I still loved my legs, I didn't consider them my best feature anymore. Now my hair clearly was tops.

Now, here it was, 6 months since swallowing that cookie. My hair is almost to the floor, and I'm wondering if I'll just keep it at this length or go for the world record first. My husband and I have the greatest marriage I could ever dream of, and our love life is full of surprises and spontaneity and adoration. I can't imagine how life could be any better, but we're seriously talking about having children. I wonder if this trait of quick hair growth will be passed on to them.

While walking into the bookstore I momentarily forgot about my hair and some got caught in the door. The force pulled me so hard it knocked my feet out from under me and I was thrown to the floor hard. My head hit the tile and things went black...

When I opened my eyes again I saw Lynn looking over me, plus some other lady I'd never seen again with very bright red hair, freshly coifed. The stranger spoke up.

"My dear, are you all right? I'm so sorry I was in a hurry and just shoved open the door without looking. You have quite a bump there."
I was groggy and everything felt strange. Lynn was holding an ice pack on my head.
"You really scared me there. You were out for nearly 5 minutes. An ambulance is on the way."
I started to my feet. I was in Lynn's shop. Why?
"I'll be all right. There's no need for an ambulance. But why am I here? The last thing I remember I was walking in to a bookstore."
"You were here for your bi-monthly haircut. Don't you remember?"

I shot my hand up to my hair. I was stunned to discover it in my old, short style. Actually it was a bit on the long side, just like it was before I would get it cut. I looked at myself in the mirror and was disappointed to find my hands weren't deceiving me. It was my old short, dowdy style. I felt bald and ugly. I was also totally confused.

"What happened to my hair, it was down to....?"
"Nothing happened. I haven't even cut it yet. I hope you'll put off getting it cut until that bump goes down."

Then it hit me. A terrible thought.

"What is today's date?"
"March 3rd, why?"
March 3rd was 6 months ago! It was the day I ate the Fortune Cookie. Only that day had never happened. The past 6 months had been a dream! I felt miserable but was regaining my composure. I touched my short hair again, disgusted.
"I'll be all right, Lynn, but I need to go home."
"OK, if you're sure about that. Do you want to reschedule your appointment?"
"Forget that, I'm letting my hair grow, to the floor."

While I was totally disappointed with how things turned out, there was a bright side. I got to live out a fantasy, and it was a fantasy that could come true if I would just be patient. It might be 10 years instead of 6 months before my hair was down to the floor, but it would be there. I had experienced long hair and the memories were vivid. I would experience it again.