How to save money

My haircut of choice is a number one.  Fot those of you that don’t know, a number one is where the barber set the clippers to one millimetre and then runs it around the victim’s, I mean the customer’s head.  It has always been a minor irritation that I get charged a full £5.50 for something that is so quick and so skill-less, the same as any other punter with a full head of hair and a parting.
 
So imagine my delight when wandering around Canterbury on finding a hair trimmer kit for a mere £2.99, old Christmas stock that was slashed to clear.  Even if it only lasted one haircut I was quids in.
 
So this morning at 09:15 I started trimming my hair.  Now, I was rather overdue a haircut, so my hair was a little longer than regulation.  Nevertheless I set to, and within moments the hair forward of my right ear was a trim one millimetre.  I continued.  At some point just behind my right ear the note of the motor dropped considerably as it struggled through the thick tresses there.
 
By 09:30 I was getting a tad concerned.  I had swapped over to the left-hand side of my head, and made hardly any progress.  I could see it pushing the hair around, but none seemed to be falling.  I called to Er Indoors to assists.  She took one look, giggled "Oh my God" and then laughed.  Possibly the cruelest thing She has ever said to me.  She had a go at the back of my head, with little result.  She left me to my own devices.
 
By 10:00 I was in panic mode.  She called out that I had to leave to take number 2 sprog to drumming lessons.  I told Her that there was no way that I could possibly leave the house, and that She would have to take him.
 
I studied the complete mess in the bathroom mirror.  There was nothing else for it.  Crying, I took up the shaving soap and brush and lathered up my head.  It is not easy to shave your head, particularly when, to see the back of your head, you have to look into the bathroom mirror reflecting the shaving mirror.
 
As I shaved I tried to console myself.  Plenty of shaved heads belonged to sexy men.  Telly Savalas, Yul Brynner, Duncan Goodhew (OK, I was getting desperate at this point).  I tried to think of a sexy bald guy who wasn’t from the 1970’s.  I failed.  The closest I could think of was Paul Adare, and he’s Canadian, for crying out loud.
 
Having spent more time looking at myself in the mirror than I had since puberty, I came to the sad but honest conclusion.  Not only am I old, but I look old.  Today, my hair and eyesight, tomorrow my teeth and hearing.  We are but grass.  On the plus side, I am on holiday for 2 weeks.  Maybe it’ll not look quite as extreme by the time I get back to work.  In the meantime I am drawing the curtains and wearing a hat indoors.
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About snodlander
Snodlander is the nom de plume of Bob Simms. He is an IT trainer, but it's not as glamourous as it sounds. When he's not enthralling classes with adventures through SQL Server, he writes, draws and drinks his own home-brew. Buy his novel on Amazon Kindle at The Young Demon Keeper, It's 74p, for crying out loud!

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