Hair cut

I just went to get my hair cut. “Looks like it’s been for a while since you were here last.” It always has. But even though I don’t go that often they do recognize me, because the lady doing the customer in the chair next to mine said: “You’re getting married aren’t you?” I had a little brain freeze. How did she know that? Had she spoken with Anne? Anne had gone in yesterday to inquire about getting her hair done on the morning of the wedding.

No, She had simply remembered. The last time I’d been was eleven weeks ago, they checked. I was engaged for a week and had told her myself.

That opened the door for steady conversation. I don’t talk much when I get my hair cut, but today was different. I was advised to come back a week or a week and a half before the big day so my hair gets the chance to fall naturally again. This is because I wear my hair with my ears covered so my sideburns don’t have to be trimmed neatly.

I admitted that I hadn’t given the subject much thought. The man taking the scissors to my head today, who is also the owner of shop by the way, gave me a spiel about how things are more expensive when they are associated with weddings and all that. Did he realize that Anne was offered to have her wedding-hair done for 25 euro’s per 15 minutes?
It was a little awkward. It always is.


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