Wednesday, 22 July 2009


i am on my way to the the barbers. i have cut my own hair for the past three years but it is time to grow up.

i want to cry.

i arrive at the barber shop and i wait for a while and then i sit in the chair. the barber starts to look at my hair. he is making a face. he touches my hair with his hands and then recoils with a look of disgust on his face.

he lets out a noise 'aeurgh'.

he lets out his voice 'who cut this last mate?'

i say 'no one'

he says 'what do you mean?'

i say 'just cut it' - i am not very good at talking to people

he says 'i'm not doing it unless you pay me £50'

i say ok