At the fair, I never go into the “House of Mirrors”. It makes me feel schizophrenic.
The last time I went with my wife when she got her hair cut, there was this weird woman staring at me the whole time in one of the 300,000 mirrors in there. A glare or glance is simply unavoidable.
I tried changing chairs, angles, everything I could thing of short of going out to sit in a hot car. It was really weird. Plus when you check to see if you’ve finally avoided her, you look, and BAM! Eye contact! Yikes! Now she thinks you’re watching her!
Fortunately, it didn’t take long for my wife’s haircut. I was as happy to get out of a place as Larry King getting out of a marriage. Those places are creepy. Ladies getting tin foil on their heads, while the artist paints the hair, all the while taking about their husbands or boyfriends or both.
I like places like Great Clips or Super Cuts. 12 bucks and you’re in and out in 15 minutes, tops. No shampoo, because I’m perfectly capable of doing that on my own, thank you very much. What I’m not capable of doing is cutting my own hair. I tried it once. I looked like an orangutan on a bad hair day.
I realize that spa appointments for the ladies are important. I really do. Get the hair done, the nails done, what have you, but I don’t think I’m ever going back to watch my wife get her hair cut again. It would be just my luck that the same creepy lady, with the same creepy eyes will be watching me in the same creepy mirrors.
See you tomorrow.
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