...since I've had to interpret Signals. Longtime readers will probably remember the episode of the curry night some months back.
Happened again tonight. I think.
I decided to try a different hairstyle. Having had the same one for nigh on twenty years, and then changing it last month, I figured it was time to change again. Playing with my 'look' is one of the things I'm having fun with at the moment.
And, of course, it meant I got to look at the hairdresser again (did I mention last time she was very, very pretty?)
So she and I are alone in the house, me in the chair and she wielding the scissors.
She: "So what sort of thing would you like?"
Me: "Oh, I don't know. The new one is ok, but kind of flat. I'd like something more disshevelled. More ruffled. As though I'd just got out of bed."
She: "Mmmm. I know just the thing."
(cue snipping and general chit chat)
She: "There." (holds a mirror up) "How's that?"
Me: "Yes - thats just what I wanted. Great!"
She: (closer) "And this side?"
Me: "Yep - looks good too"
She: (very close) "How about here?"
Me: "Er, yes. Lovely thanks"
She: (really, really close now - sotto voice) "Is there anything else you want?"
Me: "Er..."
(beat)
Me: "...maybe some hair gel?"
