I went to the barber today ... I had tried to get in on Wednesday but he was so busy I got tired of waiting and left. Besides, I had left my reading glasses at home and the American Rifleman magazine issue on his coffee table was printed in a smaller font than usual and I couldn't read it.
It was a much shorter wait today, and I enjoyed the magazine more with my glasses on.
When it was my turn, I hopped into the chair and started chatting with Takaa, my Chinese barber. Glancing down at the dropcloth I saw a lock falling into my lap. I blurted out: "Where the hell did that grey hair come from!?"
Takaa looked down at the lock in my lap, shrugged, and said "It's okay, I'm only cutting grey hairs today" and went back to his clipping.
When I got out of the chair I tipped the barber an extra five bucks for getting rid of the grey hairs.
I swear, when I shaved this morning, I only saw brown hair in the mirror. I guess I should have stuck around longer on Wednesday; I'm pretty sure I didn't have any gray locks than.
2 comments:
When you looked in the mirror, didn't you question who that old guy was looking back at you?
What old guy?
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