A couple of weeks ago, I was doing some errands with my husband. We had to drop off my car to get it serviced, and then after that I dropped off hubbie while I did some shopping. I offered to go into the salon and talk with his hair stylist because the last couple of haircuts he received were bad. Hubbie, in typical fashion, did not want me to go into the shop.
Well, I did my shopping and returned when he said his haircut would be complete. Well, he was not outside of the shop, so I parked and entered.
Upon entering, I see him getting his haircut. There is this incredibly built hair stylist cutting his hair, her body a bit close for my taste. She is blond, has large breasts and is attractive. She does, however, have sun-damaged skin, and she is a bit older than me.
I come up to them and say brightly, "Hi, Sweetie!"
Susan answers, "You must be Mrs. _____."
Then, through the course of the conversation, I learn that she had started cutting his hair at the same time his haircuts started looking worse. Now it does not take a research scientist to draw the correlation. Pre-bad haircuts: no big-breasted blonde cutting my husband's hair. Post-bad haircuts: this big-breasted blonde cutting my husband's hair.
But here is what I don't get: why get your hair cut by someone who cuts it badly just because she has nice breasts?
Sort of reminds me of this one particular server we would have at one of our favorite restaurants. She had large breasts, and every time she filled my husband's water glass, he got a brush with them. It was so obvious, and at one point, I nearly said, "What about me? I am paying tonight."
I did tell him about it after we left one. He shrugged and said, "What 'chu gonna do?" At that point, I did not know if it was appropriate for me to correct his English or tell him he should have said something nice about me. Instead, at least, I put him on notice. I couldn't have him thinking about her breasts later that evening.
Indifference is the Opposite of Love
1 day ago