Hairdressers

Popped into Damien’s in Turre for a haircut, something that I do about every 5 weeks (the hair grows quickly).

I recently had the unpleasent sensation of going bald. Not, I hasten to add, in the normal places, but just in front of the ears, above the sideburns. In a series of photos I come out looking shaven in front of the lobes.

“Damien”, sayz I, “pop the old clippers back on the recharging stand and use the scissors, there’s a good lad”.

“Pos si” he agreed, inspecting the frontal lobes, “you guiruis have the strangest hair. You don’t want a close shave there, it would look bad”.

He then proceeded to use the shaver.

However, he did make the concession of upping the trim when reaching the endangered areas.

As I left, hairy growths firmly controlled, he asked me how long I’d been coming to his shop. About 14 years, we agreed.

“Do you know” he sighed, “14 years of you coming in every 5 weeks for a trim, and not once have you left and I’d been happy with the way I trimmed your hair. This is the first time ever I’ve been happy to admit you’ve come out of my shop”:

Well, thanks very much. Here’s to Damien, mejor el peluquero de Turre as the sign says.

2 Replies to “Hairdressers”

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