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 So playing the trombone wasn't getting me in enough trouble? |
| I need someplace to write down the often confusing thoughts that enter my mind, while my stories give voice to the characters that wander through periodically, this is the place for my voice. Join me if you wish, comment if you wish, all are welcomed and appreciated. |
| Extreme minorism, but some that tweaks me a bit every two weeks or so. So every couple of weeks, give or take a day or two, I get a haircut. Not a big deal, I really hate taking the time, which isn't such a problem now that I'm retired and can go when the barbershop is empty. But what frosts me is the cost. The cost of a haircut is equivalent to a visit to my internist, who spent several years studying her trade and performs it exceptionally well. Okay, I'm basically bald, not much on top, a fringe on the side. I get a relatively simple cut. A number one buzzcut all around. Trim the back of my neck and around my ears, and you're done. If I'm in the chair for ten minutes, it's because the barber stopped to check his phone. And yet! I pay exactly the same as the guy getting that special fade, razor cut, with a blowout. You know, the guy in the chair for an hour. My haircut, with tip, costs $25. If we give the very generous ten minutes, the barber could do six of my style cuts. Which means he's billing me at $150.00 an hour. The least he could do is let me pick the radio station for those ten minutes. |
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