I used to go to a certain barber’s to get my hair cut – it’s darned cheap, and they’re not bad, though the quality of their craft falls somewhat behind any level that one might term “inspired”. They have a pretty firey main hairdresser there – she terrified me in some sense the first few times I went there. But anyway, once used to her she’s pretty funny.
But anyway, the last time I went there I was, all like “I’m going to ask for advice about what to get – I need a bit of a change.
So. It was a pretty pleasant day, the air sweet a’balmy and whatnotelse. So I sat down, waited in the queue until it was my turn. It was, as it happened, also *her* turn to cut my hair this time. “Charming”, I thought.
So I went over, sat down in her chair.
She snapped “What do you want?”
I decided to take the leap, and ventured to ask “I’m not too sure; what do you think?”
“Here! I’m not having any of this from the likes of you!”
She whipped out one of these hair-style books, opened it on the first page, pointed to one pretty arbitrarily.
“Do you want that?” she snapped.
“I don’t know; what do you think?”
“Here! Come on now!”
She flicked to the next page, pointed at another head.
“Do you want that?”: another snapping.
“You think it would suit me?”
Her brow furrower just a little bit more. But she stood her ground, her finger unwavering, unyielding.
“Do you want that?”; she spoke the words one after another.
“Ok…I guess…”
3 Comments
You’re not helping, you know.
There’s something unsettling about hairdressers. Like, if you tell them what you want, you invariably get something quite other. So you ask them to lend their learned, skilled advice. But they won’t.
Fucking scum.
Fancy some burning? Me too. I’ll bring the *highly flammable* hairspray.
Oh, I’ve got the crazy; I need a part. I NEED A PARTY. I JUST CAN’T GO ON!
Rob, this is what happens at a cheap barbers. The whole thing is that if you pay the money, the indeed offer advice and are well up for a constructive pre-cut/style chat.
Mark. Yes, I sorely need an excellent party. Sorely. Actually, if you’re up any time maybe we can get a bunch of gayers over my place for my long-promised rob’s-cookbook-dinnerparty-cum-ginnerparty. Or maybe somewhere more central if we know anyone. But seriously. I need a party.
But if that’s too ambitious/to-failure doomed, I’m up for Any Old Party, I think.