Just a Trim

I didn’t even want a bloody haircut – it’s not due for another two months at least. Lisa insisted I check the place out, so that she can go before that dance she keeps on about. Why she thinks I should be the guinea-pig, I have no idea…

And just look at the result! I don’t know what happened – I’d written down all the useful phrases from the Handy French book: ‘Just a trim, please’; ‘I like it long’; ‘No more than half an inch’…

The hairdresser – Sandrine - simply Ignored all that. I would have complained… but I hadn’t looked that up.

And Sandrine was so touchy-feely - I hate that. When someone I don’t even know keeps squeezing my arm and pressing against me it makes me uncomfortable. Specially a woman. And you never know if they expect you to touch them back…

Lisa said she thought it looked Fabulous, and that once you got used to my ears they were quite sexy. Huh! (Actually, CAN ears be sexy)?

Oh lord! I wonder if it's too hot to go out in my woolly caving hat...