“This is somewhere where men will feel comfortable entering,” Fetchko said, adding she is aware that many men are shy about having their hair cut in a salon and many more men are afraid – even embarrassed – about inquiring on hair removal.

Now, the only hair I needed removed was the shaggy wig blossoming on my head. But that wasn’t all I was going to receive. Jennifer and the women she has on her staff were going to give me the royal treatment.

And royalty is exactly how I felt.

The salon is designed to be as comfortable and undaunting to any male possessing the slightest temerity about visiting a salon. Masculine colors spread with an artist’s touch; fragrant and without that noxious perm odor (what exactly is that smell, anyway?); and the storefront doesn’t scream “Salon! Salon! You are entering a Salon!”

First on the agenda was my scalp. I was shampooed, rinsed, massaged and given a hot-towel treatment. Had I entered Tycoon’s at all sleepy, I would have dozed right then and there in my reclined position.

Jennifer was thorough in querying me on how I wanted my hair styled; I was less than thorough in my response: “Beats me, do whatever you think would look good.”

Enough said. Then entered the friendly Tina Sullivan-Hughes, expert manicure specialist.

Like many guys, my cuticles were less than appealing, my skin was dry, my nails were chipped and ugly.

Tina pushed a small table in front of me filled with bottles and hot water and instruments I’d never seen. Amidst massaging my fingers, applying redolent oils and cutting, smoothing and filing away the ugly exterior of my phalanges, Tina maintained conversation and explained the entire process to me.

This, all the while, Jennifer is cutting my hair and also keeping conversation.

The result: I am getting my hair cut, my hands and fingers beautified, both at the same time and in the perfect solitude of a well-designed room. I felt good, felt comfortable, and I was having fun while two friendly women made me the center of their attention.

“I know how it is to walk into a non-inviting salon, or a place that is more worried about being trendy than it is about being accommodating,” Jennifer said. “So, I want to create a place where men feel at home.”

When my hair was done and my hands were looking their best since exiting the womb I was introduced to another congenial female named Natalee LaVigne (pronounced La-Vin-Yay), the skin specialist, who would be giving me a facial. She had surfaced from downstairs, somewhere beneath the salon. I hadn’t a clue the building had a basement or anything located beneath the ground.

“Oh, you got to see this,” Jennifer said, as she and Natalee lead me down a flight of stairs. It is apparent a good deal of time, thought and effort went into designing the lower floor – I found a clean, near-dusk lit corridor filled with pillows, medium colors and a handful of closed doors. Obviously designed for comfort and future plans for broadening the grooming experience, I was led down the hall and Natalee opened one of the closed doors. Jennifer retired upstairs.

The room was small and narrow and lit exclusively by candles. The majority of the room’s space was filled by a massage table. We both entered. Natalee explained that I am about to receive a holistic facial treatment, which is done using only organic ingredients. The process is designed to make me feel relaxed and to naturally revitalize my skin.

Sure, I was thinking, but I couldn’t help staring at the tissue-paper thin pair of pajama bottoms tightly folded atop the bed.

“I will focus on your face and help treat any abnormalities. Using Aveda products, I will tone your face and there will be a deep pore cleansing to get out impurities. I will hydrate the skin.”

Will there be any cucumbers, I quip.

Organic process, yes, but no food stuffs.

Natalee says she is going to step out of the room for a few minutes; I should get undressed and put those thin pants on and lay on my back on the bed. Burr, I think to myself, it is room temperature in here yet I feel a little chilly; I’m half-naked, getting prepped to have my face improved.

When Natalee re-enters, she begins to wrap me in a sheet upon which I have been laying for a couple minutes; soon I am in a cocoon.

Smooth music is put on, the room is darkened just a tad more and Natalee’s face appears above mine, upside-down, and she tells me directly, “in a few minutes, you are going to be in La-La Land.”

For the next 90 minutes, my face, shoulders, arms, hands, fingers, feet and back were seasoned with sweet-smelling lotions and cleansers, all massaged deeply into my skin with well-trained fingers. She was right. To be blunt, I was feeling awesome. “If I hear some snoozing, then that means I am doing my job.”

But I couldn’t snooze, I needed to write a story telling of my experience; I had to fight the urge to succumb to totally relaxation.

I was given a hot-stone therapy treatment, which at first felt almost searing but nothing that a few seconds didn’t render sensational. The heat penetrated deep; at times it didn’t seem hot enough. I could feel the myriad coats of medicinal ointments finding purchase in my skin and muscles, the numerous aromas climbing my nasal passages and forcing my conscious to let go and enjoy everything.

“Relaxation is the priority. I want to put your face and skin back to its own balance,” she tells me.

I am guessing my face and skin were way out of whack, because the process of being put back on level ground with my body felt heavenly. I’m already trying to force my face and skin back out of balance, just so I have to go back.

When the treatment was done, I could hardly move. Or, I didn’t want to move. I just wanted to lay and sleep.

As I wearily walked upstairs and faced the sun for the first time in what seemed three years, I looked at my hair, grinned at my fingers and gave heed to how well I felt.

In what took place in just under three hours, my whole day was transformed for good to great. I was sold on what Jennifer was selling – it’s good to throw your inhibitions away and just let go. The whole experience will have you coming back once you shed the impression that salons are for girls.

Once a male experiences this type of treatment, there may not be any going back to the old way of life.