It would be straight

Taking the time to breathe a bit after spending hours, or what seemed like hours, going around and being a host to several party members, Jim found himself standing on the patio overlooking the several acres of open grass and field behind his house. It wasn't big or opulent like the houses his classmates from med school who also went into plastic surgery often had but he didn't imagine the need to display or flaunt wealth and status. Their comments, often backhanded, fell through when the magazines came out and listed him as the top, not one of the top, plastic surgeon in the state. He didn't have many offices, only the one he started out in (granted, he went from one office to owning the whole building), and his staff was still modest (though they topped the state pay for their position, from admin staff to nursing to the assistant doctors). Jim just did things easier for everyone.

Inside, Teresa was playing hostess to several of their guests and Jim just finished off his glass of wine before he looked back at the party for a few moments and then smiled. Despite the frantic pace that she set, and drove him crazy the entire day, this was what his wife was known for in the family: she was a party hostess through and through. He had long ago learned not to get in her way and she often thanked him for that (doing nothing, as he phrased it to his kids growing up).

Thinking about the questionnaire, he turned and walked into the side office downstairs that had been turned into a coat room for the guests inside. His desk had been cleared off mostly but he still found the magazine and he flipped through it until he reached the page where the third question awaited him.

3.) IF YOU WERE A GIRL...WOULD YOUR HAIR BE STRAIGHT OR CURLY?

He thought about that for a moment. Tabitha had curly hair, it was a curse that ran in the family, as did his mother. The two of them liked to have the option to style their hair and often expressed varying levels of disgust at having to style it again and again, only to fall prey to the curse of having too curly hair to permit much in the way of trying out new things and dos. Even Teresa, bless her heart, had been dealt a crappy hand at curly hair, or rather hair too weak and brittle to sustain any sort of real effort and styling it. She cut it short, almost like she was older than her age appeared, and never looked back.

Far be it for him to criticize anyone for choosing what to do with their bodies, Jim had decided, but he was always partial to long hair, long straight hair, the type that was fun to run fingers through (like his ex girlfriend Sarah back in college), or hair that was healthy and vibrant, strong enough to withstand brushing and styling every day. His father never had such issues, the man had been bald since he was 25, and his mother? Forget that.

Still, if this was an exercise in thought and different lifestyle, why not continue to go outside the box? He decided to pick up his pen and after picturing his former neighbor, Ms. Halloway, in his mind, especially with her long brunette hair and how young she had looked (and still did, her hair was just a slight-bit grayer than brown but still very much on the brown side still), Jim jotted down his answer. I would have long, straight hair, perhaps down past my waist. It would be very healthy and full of texture, well taken care of, and easily styled in whatever manner I choose. For a bit of good measure, Jim nodded. I would also be very knowledgeable on how to style it and able to master new ways to make it look nice.

A knock on the door caused him to look up and smiled as his son, Taylor, popped his head in. "Hey dad, just wanted to say good night, figured we'd get going before it got too cold." Jim nodded and smiled. "Okay, need help?"

****

Jim picked up the phone and after saying his last good nights for the evening, helped his daughter-in-law to the car and stood there as they drove off, leaving Teresa still inside, talking with a few guests who were also perhaps getting ready to leave. He didn't mind the fresh air, helped to clear out his head, and as he turned back to the house, he felt the back of his neck getting brushed by his hair. It had been growing a bit lengthy, Jim wondered, but no one seemed to mind it at all back at the office. Teresa maybe poo-pooed him about it but it was more or less a bit of envy at how easy it was for him to wash and keep it neat and presentable. Plus, to be honest, she didn't really seem to mind it at all.

After an hour, and the last guests having left, he turned to his wife and smiled. "It was a wonderful night, babe."

She smiled back and nodded, heading off to the kitchen to finish up before coming to bed. He went upstairs to finish getting ready and paused, making sure to grab the magazine, and brought it with him into the bathroom.

4.) IF YOU WERE A GIRL...WHAT WOULD BE YOUR FAVORITE COLOR?