This guy walked into a barber's shop. It wasn't one that he had ever used before. It was an "old fashioned" hairdressing establishment and rather obviously only serviced the needs of hirsute males.
"Hair cut?" said the only person in attendance with the scissors in his hand.
The guy nodded his consent and sat down in the middle one of the three vacant chairs mulling over in his mind that it must have been blindingly obvious why he had walked in.
A stained off white drape was secured over the guy's shoulders and tucked around his neck like a bib to catch the falling chopped hair, or some of it. Most of it would end up on the wooden floor to be eventually brushed up and disposed of in some way.
"What do you do with all the hair you cut mate?" said the guy in the chair.
"I use it to make wigs," said the cutter as he took his first big cut out of his clients mop.
"Wigs?" said the guy as he peered at the blank wall above the wash basin in front of him.
"Yep." said the cutter as he harvested another swatch of hair.
The barber worked fast and the cut hair flew in furious flurries.
"Just a trim mate," said the client adding "Not too much off the front."
The front had gone, joining the back and sides on the wooden floor.
"How's that?" said the finished barber offering up a cracked hand mirror.
The guy stared in disbelief and then horror.
"You bastard!" He shouted."You've taken the bloody lot off!"
"I'll tell you what I'll do." said the unconcerned barber. "I won't charge you for the haircut and I'll fix you up with a nice wig for fifty quid. Something for the week end aye?"
Wednesday, 10 June 2009
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