Like many folks with a regular haircutter, I look forward to my monthly visits. Dania's been cutting my hair for nearly 10 years, and I've known her for 13. Her daughter and D2 met in kindergarten, and we used to meet at the grade school party circuit...
While Dania cuts my almost fully gray hair, we compare life stories and wisdom. Her daughter Lindsay went to Christian High School, so many of our talks were about the differences in private versus parochial education, and now, Dania's an empty nester like I am...
I tell her jokes, and she laughs, which makes me happy, and she shares her jaded "I've heard it all from my clients over the years" tales with me.
So there I was yesterday, enjoying the polite banter in Dania's chair, when the skies darkened. Wagnerian music crescendoed. The temperature fell about 20 degrees.
Stacey had walked over, and parked herself next to us.
Stacey is an acquaintance of Wifey's. She's not a bad looking middle aged woman, but she's a non stop talker and know it all.
While Dania and I were silent, she held forth on a number of topics --never coming up for air. I was trapped. I had nowhere to flee. I received life wisdom, fully gratutitous, about dealing with aging parents, how to handle young adult kids, the economy, etc...
Dania held the scissors, and I could tell she was thinking about wielding them against the intruder, but the fact that Stacey is a client of the shop restrained her.
It was so onerous.
I'm sure if you asked Stacey, she'd give you chapter and verse about what a noble, caring, and good person she is. How she dispenses all of her acquired wisdom to improve the lives of all she meets.
She was interminable.
She finally left, to go dry her nails, just as Dania was finishing. I paid her. She smiled, and said "Well, it was nice talking with you today."
It's my fault, I know. I should have shooed the boor away at the beginning, politely, with one of the many charming excuses I can always think up immediately. "Oh, Stacey --Dania has a legal question to ask me --can you give us some time" or some such.
But, for some reason, we both allowed this storm to roll in, and soak us with the ininvited deluge of advice, admonitions, "wisdom," etc...
My haircut was fine, as always. Dania texted me, apologizing, since she felt it was her shop, and maybe she should have done something about this.
Nah, I texted back --it'll make for a funny story.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment