Making the cut

A rather anxious-looking man enters a hairdressers’ near Clapham Common.

“Are you open?” he asks the man at the desk.

“We close in 10 minutes,” he replies.

An attractive stylist beckons the man over and, after offering her a rather too enthusiastic “hello”, eyes wide open, glaring adoringly into hers, he takes a seat.

Looking slightly concerned, she gingerly asks: “What would you like?”

The man, who has clearly thought about this a lot, pretends he hasn’t and feigns insouciance. “What? What would I like? Hmmm… what would I like?”

Scissors in hand, held almost like a method of defence as opposed to a tool of her trade, the stylist waits a few moments while the man considers delivering the answer he should have provided her with immediately.

“What would I like? Just a trim really.”

She moves the blades closer to his curly, only slightly unruly barnet.

“Well, you can take off the back and sides,” he adds. “And thin it out on top.”

Grabbing his fringe, he continues. “And I want a kind of quiff thing at the front, too.”

Okay, says the girl, clearly noting this is not just a trim.

The man reaches for his pocket, and the hairdresser flinches slightly. He pulls out a sheet of paper, unfolds it, and thrusts it into her face. It features a photo of a haircut that will obviously be unachievable with his hair.

The girl looks at her watch, clearly sighing inside.

“Just a trim, really,” he concludes.


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