Posted Fri Sep 1, 2017 | 552 Words | Tagged story workie bodyswap

It was a job interview day, so I decided I had to get my hair cut an hour or so before hand so I walked in to the small barber shop and took a seat as usual and waited for one of the barbers to call me over for a hair cut. Being an interview I was probably slightly overdressed for most people who would come into the barbers, wearing a white shirt, a clip on tie and black trousers. It wasn’t as though I enjoyed wearing them, but it was people expected for an office job and an office job was what I was good at doing.

Looking idly over as another customer walked in and caught my eye. Of course, the clothes he was wearing were meant to. Green Hi-Vis clothing is really meant to catch the eye, although his had been clearly worked in and very dirty. Maybe I was staring a little too much. It wouldn’t really matter much, it’s not as though I would be likely to ever see him again after this short encounter.

He sits down beside me and takes off his white, well was once white, hard hat and places it in between us. As he does so we both get called by the barbers ready to cut both of our hairs.

I briefly described what I wanted. Daring to try and get my hair slightly like the worker next to me. Being a fantasy to have a drastic career change, but unable to go fully with it. The general unwritten rules if you want to get an office job.

Unusually we are both taken to the sinks for a hair was. The work quickly apologising if his hair was too full of dirt. I didn’t seem to mind, a hair wash is a hair was at the end of the day.

The soap using was incredibly relaxing. Too relaxing. It smelt nice in a way, kind of like lavender but lulling me to sleep. I tried to keep my eyes open as I felt the shampoo almost pull against my hair as though it was sucking at my head and getting incredibly thick and sticky.

I groan awake. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I feel comfortable and relaxed and slightly shifted as I slowly open my eyes. I see downwards at first, the barber is cutting into the back of my neck with something.

Instead of my my posh trousers, I see the muddied dirty “green” hi vis trousers the workie was wearing. I feel slightly alarmed, but I don’t move or the barber will end up fucking my hair up.

He finishes and I’m able to look up and in the mirror is the rough face of the workie who entered after me. I smile a bit, having settled into this. After all, isn’t this what I wanted? I kinda looked sexy with that cocky smile anyway.

After he’d finished sorting out my hair, keeping it in check I paid the money, slanted on my hard hat as if I’d been doing this every day of my life and wondered off to the construction site. It seemed somehow I had enough knowledge stole from the other one to live his life. He’s probably waking up about now, in what was me.