Friday, 1 June 2012

comedic relief, or something like that

I've decided to stop feeling sorry for myself and am instead trying summon my inner Polly-Anna. It's not working out too well for me, but I'm trying.

Here's a funny story: so I told you I went for a celebratory hair cut after I "got a job". It went something like this.

Me: Bonjour, uh, pardon, do you speak English?

Hairdresser: oui, un peu

Me: Ah, merci. Wait, that was in French. Never mind. okay, I'd like to get my hair cut, how much will that cost?

H: 15 Euros

M: Great, I'll have TWO.

H: ....?....? You take two? Two hair cuts?

C: Sorry, I was just joking. Silly joke. Sorry.

C: Oh, and how much is it for hilights?

H: Aaaah, the yellow stripes?

C: NO. NOT the yellow stripes. No stripes. Just subtle higlights. Actually, you know what, never mind. Don't worry about the stripes. No stripes for me today. Just the hair cut.

snip snip, cut cut..... wallet out

H: 40 Euros.

C: Wait, you said 15 Euros.

H: Aaaah, yes, 15 Euros for the hair cut, 3 for the shampoo, 3 for the conditioner and 19 for the blow dry. So that's 40 Euros.

Are you kidding me?
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