The Snip

Just some Twittering after my haircut.

“Are you open?” I asked the lady havening a ciggy outside the salon.
“Yes, go in.” she said. #thesnip

I opened the door to find the salon empty. It’ll be only a minute and she will follow me in. #thesnip

Fag lady has cut my hair for several years now.
It’s a standing joke with friends, my haircut takes only two minutes tops. #thesnip

There’s no holiday chat.
I sit – she cuts – I pay. 2 mins and I’m out. #thesnip


So there I was in the empty salon, waiting, when out from the back came another lady.
“Take a seat” she said.
I obeyed. #thesnip

“Just a trim?” “Yes please” I said.
Now many of  you may know, I don’t have a lot of hair.. #thesnip

My eyes fall on a body art jewellery card for men on the counter in front of me. Oh, that’s new. #thesnip

Then wonder when cards of styptic pencils, combs and Brylcreme lost their customers. #thesnip

Two minutes have gone and she’s still cutting.  #thesnip

Five minutes I’m still in the chair, now I’m getting worried.
Still, no holiday chat – thank god. Just silence and snipping. #thesnip

Fag lady returned and glanced across. “You ok there?”
“Yeah” she says. #thesnip

I realise that she was spending rather more time on one side.
When you have little hair, the bit you have, you’re keen to keep. #thesnip

It is now apparent I look like a lop-sided turnip. Or an elderly throwback of an 80’s pop band.  #thesnip

Then the brush was zipped around my neck and  the cape was  off. #thesnip

Then mirror whipped behind my head. Zip zip “Is that ok for yer?” Err, what is there left to put right?  “That’s £7 please” #thesnip