Memories: Haircut, the big day looms

[anotherbanana]

I have just been to negotiate for my first haircut in over a year and it brought back memories of another time.

Other haircut

Well, it is done, the sacrifice has been made, after tenders and negotiations and finally the deed; the annual haircut is complete, and my head looks like a cross between a kiwi fruit and a prickly pear.

It was a delicate interaction, between the young lady and I, each feeling they knew best, each definitely but firmly trying to pull in their own direction. As I told the fascinated trainee who stood watching agog, it is a question of feeling between customer and shearer which is a finely balanced thing, a porcelain vase of fragility.

But, there we are, I have lovely ears again, but no soft thatch at the back to keep the neck warm or to act as a cushion on airline flights, or to keep out the cold.

Which brings us to fidelity: when I accepted the tender for the job the young lady at the till gave me a fidelity card, as do most French retail outlets. When I protested that I was faithful to a philosophy or a woman, if I had one, she pointed out that it doubled as an appointment card. Hmm, well, ok, accepted.

But studying it later, I realised it posed a problem; the basic offer was ten cuts and a reduction of €5 on the eleventh ---- at one cut per year, that is eleven years before I get my bonus. Now, my granddad lived 'til 70, my dad 'til 73, so the chances of my being able to reclaim my €5 bonus are very slim. Not a lot of good really.

So, yesterday I asked whether I could have the bonus in advance - no chance. Could I leave the card in my will so that me joyful descendants, crying alleluya at my post mortem munificence, could take advantage of this offer - need a lawyer for that one eh? And what about inflation - after all, this offer is a diminishing return, should it not be indexed, at least? And social charges, are they payable? The lady at the till looked confused and was clearly thinking that all Brits are totally doolally and why don't they bugger awf home.

I am saddened that so much doubt has been caused to the owners of the salon which I patronize and that they might be in trouble because of the act of generosity as it seems to discriminate against the aged, whilst not favouring the famille nombreuse.

Perhaps a fully transferable family card with indexed offer might be substituted, devoid of the stigma of prejudice and ageism, which would help the high breeders in their campaign to repopulate rural France with lotsa little white people.

Meanwhile, I must wear a hat to keep out the sun and reintroduce myself to it slowly, no more than ten minutes a day, if I don't wanna burn and end up with a peeled bonce or worse.