Andre Agassi Book Deleted Scenes: The Merkin

Cut from the final edit of "Open" by Andre Aggasi:
The 1990 French Open final I thought, well — hoped — was the low point. Terrified my hairpiece would fall off — it stuck to my head with nothing more than bobby pins — I had played the final tentative, not wanting to move too much so I wouldn't be embarrassed in front of the world. I lost to Andres Gomez. But it really felt like a win.
My secret had not been exposed. My image was still intact.
And with a new hairpiece on my head, I coasted through the next few years free and easy as Andre Agassi: tennis rebel.
But then came Brooke Shields.
I had met her a few times over the years at charity events. Very nice. Very beautiful, too. And I could tell she thought I was cute. She always made flirty comments about my long hair.
Fast forward to late 1996, set up through mutual acquaintances, we decide to go out on a date. Dinner. A little hole-in-the-wall Thai place on the Upper East Side. I was expecting nothing more than a nice meal and good conversation. But it went well. Very well.
Our entrees hadn't even arrived yet and she tells me she wants me to come back to her hotel room. Now. Umm … check, please! It's Brooke Shields! I'm out of there.
We start going at it in the cab. We are all over each other. This beautiful woman — a supermodel — wants me. And bad. About a block before we pull up to her hotel, Brooke starts rubbing my crotch through my pants.
The cab pulls up to the building. As I get out and start walking inside with her, I realize something's wrong. Down there. Something was loose in my briefs. It felt like a sock. Did it get stuck in there during laundry? Why did I only feel it just now?
Who cares. My mind is only barely working on that … I'm focusing on the fact that I'm about to hook up with Brooke Shields!
We get inside her apartment, inside her bedroom — and she undresses for me. Amazing. Then she sits me on the bed, takes off my shirt … my shoes … my socks … my pants … and kneels down on the floor between my legs. Wow. I see where this is going. And I like it.
As she grabs at my underwear to slip them off, it suddenly dawns on me … OH MY GOD! That's not a sock in my briefs! My merkin came loose!
I PANIC! What would she think? Women always expected my hair to be thick and lustrous EVERYWHERE. Even down there. It was just part of the package of my image, you know? I don't want them to be disappointed. So that's why I always wore a long merkin, some eight inches in length, dyed different colors, often with ribbons tied into it, and spiked just above my penis. I had to. I had to wear that merkin. I naturally had short, tight, black curls. And short pubic hair simply was not the image of '80s and '90s Andre Agassi.
I grab Brooke's hand. "No!" I blurt out. "What? You don't want this?" "No. I do. Believe me I do. It's just … I'm self-conscious." "Oh, Andre. I'm sure you're plenty big. And I don't care about that anyway. Do you want me to turn out the light?"
I nod. Maybe that would save me. Although she may still find something down there, loose, roughly the size of a beaver pelt. A very hairy beaver. Then what? She might be terrified in the dark. But I can't pass this up. It's Brooke Shields.
She begins. And it's amazing. So amazing I completely forget about my loose merkin. She finishes, comes into bed and we have sex. Then we collapse into each other, naked. We are exhausted. We sleep.
I suddenly awake. It's the middle of the night. Oh, no! My merkin! I reach down. It's not there! But … but … where could it be? I have to find it! I can't have Brooke wake up and see me bald down there or a huge merkin somewhere in the covers.
And then I see it. It's pretty hard to miss. Because it's on top of Brooke's head. Like a hat. During her opening act, it must have flown off and landed on her head. That means I then had sex with someone who was wearing my own merkin on her head. And I didn't even know it.
Unbelievable. What a night.
That's when I vow to shave my head. I can't keep living this lie. Too many close calls.
I slowly reach over and lift my merkin off of Brooke's head. Her eyes open. She grabs my hand. "No, baby. Keep it. I like it. It makes me feel close to you."
Whoa. So kinky. So hot. I know then that I'm going to marry this woman.
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