(no title today. It's Thursday)

Categories: uncategorized

Date: 31 August 2006 00:51:38

I am not in a very wibloggery mood at the moment. However such is my sense of duty to the cause of er... something, that I will endeavour to dig up some worthy morsels for your entertainment or something...

Yesterday I went to get my hair cut. The sign said "Quick cuts $20". I walked in and there were three of them (hairdressers) all chatting to each other... they looked at me. I quivered. "Yes?" one of them said. "I be after a quick cut" I replied. They looked at me then at each other. I sensed an increase in telepathic activity. Eventually one of them lost the stare off and ushered me to a seat. She put a noose around my neck. Or maybe it was a piece of paper to create a collar over the black robe... thing. Robe? Cloak? Cape? A black cape.

"How much do you want off?". I indicated how much I'd like removed. This was apparently a lot. But that's how much I wanted taken off.

"What sort of shampoo do you use?"
"Sunsilk"
"That's not very good is it?"
"er... well I like it. And it's cheap"
"But you have a lot of split ends. Have you tried our Salon Only brand?"
"Could my split ends be because I haven't had my hair cut for 18 months??"
"(silence)"

A bit of small talk followed. But it died. I tried. Oh yes, I tried. But no. Am I doomed to never "connect" with a hairdresser? Am I missing my empathy-with-hairdressers gene? Maybe it's on the same chromosome as the enjoys-shopping gene. And the knows-how-to-apply-make-up-and-uses-this-knowledge-frequently-gene.

After about 4 minutes of cutting another customer walked in and indicated that she wanted MY hairdresser. A minute later and I was released from my cape and collar. And charged $20. As I left, my hairdresser was chatting merrily to the next victim. Odd really.