I ran into my neighbour at the hairdresser's salon last evening. I use "ran in" carefully here because he was running blind with some ghoulish white substance on his face and wafers of cucumber glued to his eyes. He is a heavy man and I am not so it was pretty easy for him to run into me. My ribs hurt.
He didn't recognise my ribs of course and it didn't help that he couldn't see through cucumber. So, I apologised and I noticed that he had some colour in his hair or what was left of it. To be technically correct, he had colour in his scalp and on some wisps that were stubbornly clinging to it.
When the cucumber was peeled off and he saw light, he also saw me. I tried not to grin or show disrespect to his beautification procedure. But it was too late, he caught my smirk the moment it left my face. "Missus is getting facial done and I had to kill some time," he mumbled through his warpaint. I couldn't nod in appreciation as the scissors were snipping dangerously around my only ears.
He must have thought me rude but rather heartless than earless methinks. When the hairdresser's assistant settled at his feet with a pedicure kit, I swear I heard him curse me.
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