Sampson was very proud of his hair, which gave him his unusually immense strength. I'm hoping that I'm not another Sampson type character, as after 5 months (the last time I got my hair cut was just before I went skiing in February), I finally bit the bullet, and got my flowing locks cut.
Jane did reckon that I was more like a Mr. Comb-over rather than any bronzed Mediterranean Adonis. I had to agree that maybe a trim would be in order, so, after driving home from my night shift (another night spent in the easy-chair "watching football" – what will I do when the tournament is finished) I stopped in the local Scarborough barber shop to bid farewell to my scary hair.
Chatting – in a way that only a barber can do – Justin (my new best friend – so he thinks) told me about how he'd just moved to Scarborough, and was really happy with work. He didn't sound local (who does), and so I asked him where he had just moved from. He was ever so pleased I had asked and then proceeded to extol the virtues of Manchester, and how he'd only arrived 3 to 4 weeks earlier, and was living with his girlfriend, and how he was enjoying it.
I did say that I had only arrived this year also, and mentioned about the pub nearby me, and he said he would look out for me, if he's in there the same time as me, as he doesn't know many people. Fortunately he finished butting y hair in about 10 minutes, as he was running out of things to say – isn't it always the same at a haircut, after about 10 to 15 minutes, you can't wait to get out of there. I hope that when he doesn't have scissors in his hand, he has some other conversation.
Hopefully my super strength, and charm hasn't been sapped with the loss of my auburn locks, and also hopefully I'll not run into Justin in the Indian Ocean Hotel. I'm sure I heard his entire repertoire of jokes, and funnies. At least I've finally met someone who arrived in Perth since I've arrived. That's good.
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