For Want of a Mask

Chapter One: The Sign

If Angela had known the sign at the entrance of Rosa's Beauty Salon was serious, she would have never left her mask at home.

"Not one more step!" snapped the masked hairdresser, scowling with her eyebrows and gesticulating. "Read the sign!"

Angela turned her head in the direction of the hairdresser's frantic fingers. She'd seen the sign before, walking past the salon, and chuckled internally at it. It read,

"You are welcome to enter without a mask, but first you must remove all of your clothes."

Angela had woken up early that morning, put on her exercise gear, and taken a light jog to the strip mall to get her hair trimmed. As the local COVID-19 mask mandate had been lifted a few months ago, she had left her mask at home. She was dressed in a short tank top and leggings, without a scarf or bandanna that could serve as a makeshift mask. She carried only her phone, house key and a few notes to pay for the trim.

Angela read the sign again, looked back at the hairdresser and tossed her head back in exaggerated laughter. "Haha, that's so funny! You really had me for a moment there."

The hairdresser's mask creased as her scowl deepened. "It's not a joke. See for yourself." She gestured towards a chair in the corner of the salon, where her colleague, who appeared to be wearing two masks, was cutting a blonde woman's hair. Although the chair was angled away from Angela, she could see a bare shoulder above it, and the backs of two bare calves.

Angela's eyes widened in shock, and she quickly looked away to spare the woman's dignity. She turned to leave the salon, but the hairdresser she'd been talking to was now standing between her and the exit door, which had been shut. Adrenaline spiked in her veins.

"You've already exposed us by coming in here," the hairdresser said. "You might as well get it over with. Lucky for you, it's too early for anyone to be around, and there are no other appointments this morning."

Angela bit her lip. The hairdresser's glare hardened. "Have to teach you anti-maskers a lesson. We'll give you back your clothes afterwards."

"Do you have a back room or...?" Angela couldn't believe she was considering this. But she knew she wouldn't be able to get another booking before Rachel's wedding, and she couldn't turn up there with this rat's nest of split ends on her head.

"No," said the hairdresser. "Don't be shy, we're all girls here."

Angela glanced at the other customer's chair in the corner. From this angle, she could see the lady's naked side. Confirmed: they weren't joking. At least she wouldn't be alone.

Grimacing, Angela bent down to untie her running shoes. The hairdresser nodded in approval. Once the laces were loose, Angela pulled the shoes off, and then took her phone and house key out of her right sock, before removing those as well, stuffing them into her shoes. The floor was cool against her bare feet. But now she had to start undressing for real.

Angela pulled off her tank top first, exposing her stomach and sports bra. For a moment, she imagined she was in a hot yoga studio, and would not be removing anything else. But the hairdresser raised an expectant eyebrow.

The leggings were next. As the stretchy fabric slid down her smooth legs, she knew she was really stripping. Once they were on the ground, she stepped out of them, and the hairdresser took that moment to gather them up with her top and shoes. For a brief moment, she stood in her bra and panties, feeling cold and exposed, hoping against hope that the hairdresser would relent. This was naked enough, surely?

Sharon was the name on the hairdresser's tag, she noticed. Sharon tapped her foot expectantly and gestured towards the blonde customer. Angela side-eyed her, noting her bare chest, smaller than Angela's own.