The Barber of the ‘Dale

Today I went for my annual haircut. I really hate getting my hair cut. Along with speaking on the phone and shopping for non-foodstuffs, it’s one of my three least favourite activities.

When it comes to the point that I have to get a haircut, I certainly avoid anything with the words “salon” or “unisex” in their name. I like a good old fashioned barber’s shop with sawdust on the floor and a black and white picture of George Best from 1964 on the wall.

Imagine my shock and surprise when I walked into the barber’s today to find that one of the two barbers was in fact… A WOMAN!

A woman barber, next they’ll be wanting the vote and equal pay.

Got to say she done a pretty good job, actually. First she started by washing my hair which was quite funny as I had spent the hour before trying to get the Christmas lights out of the outside tree, so there was probably sticks and feathers and things coming out of my hair.

Next it was a careful scissor cut which compared to the normal attack of the electric shaver was a treat. All in all I was pleased, but then I got the bill, £8 !!!!! What’s going on with the world? I remember when a Beano was only 12p.