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As you usually do, I was chatting with my barber that morning. I'd had a hard time at work lately, and had just received
my credit card bill with my wife's excesses on it, and felt in need of some pampering, so I was in for the full treatment,
manicure, haircut and shave.
Jacko had just finished short-back-and-siding me, while his assistant Ron was doing things to my hands. He wrapped a
hot towel around my face, and placed a couple of pads soaked in something I think he called witch hazel over my eyes to refresh
and soothe them.
Our chat had progressed through the usual subjects, football, cricket and politicians and had by now settled onto the
fair sex, with Ron contributing little to the conversation, as his mind was obviously at home with his boyfriend.
Jacko was married, but he told me about his bit on the side, a bottle blonde with a predilection for sex in public places.
He skited on about the trouble he had finding places that weren't too public, due to the risk of his wife finding out about
his affair.
When he'd exhausted his Shane Warne imitations, I joined in and bragged about my latest conquest, a busty brunette who
worked in the library. I offered to show him the scratches on my back from her long fire engine red fingernails.
"So what's so special about her then?" he asked.
"Well, she has this trick with warm olive oil, and she can drive a bloke crazy with her the things she does with
her tongue... Ow!"
Well, how was I to know that he was married to a busty brunette librarian? And because of the eye pads I hadn't seen
that he was about to shave me with an old fashioned cutthroat razor.
Look, here's the scar where my ear used to be!
© Sandy Parkinson June 2005 Word count 317
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