A Tale Of Three Haircuts

It just happened that way – not planned, just a coincidence. Me, Guy and Shadow all had haircuts.

In the ten years I’ve been in France I’ve only had five haircuts, each one worse than the one before so I used to wait until I was in the UK and then go round to a place I’ve been going to for years. That wasn’t so difficult when I was travelling to London most weeks, but since I’ve retired it’s been a problem. Do I pluck up the courage and get my hair done by a French ‘hairdresser’ (quotes are deliberate) and look like I’ve fallen under a council grass cutting machine or wait until I look like an ageing hippy and get it done on my twice yearly visits to London?

As I wasn’t due to get to the UK until September, I plucked up courage a couple of months ago and went into a ‘men only’ place in the local town. I checked that he used electric clippers and waited for the worst but amazingly, I got a haircut which was as good as, if not better than I used to get in London.

Buoyed by this apparent success, I dragged Guy round there last week and both him and I got our holiday haircuts (we’re off to Corfu in a few weeks time). Guy refused to let me tell the hairdresser (no quotes and intended) what to do and ended up like he’d just had his hair washed – there was virtually no hair on the floor. When he’d finished with me, there was a mass of silvery grey hair all round the chair, just the way I like it. Nice and short and when I put my crash helmet on for the trip home, it was rattling around on my head!

Next it was Shadow who only gets his hair done once a year, just in time for the summer heat. A few weeks ago when I booked him in, with my poor French causing confusion with the ‘hairdresser ‘, I simply pointed to a poodle who had just been done and said, ‘la meme’ (the same). Poor Shadow. When I picked him up on Friday afternoon after his shampoo and cut, he looked like he’d been close shaved. The problem was that whilst the top and sides were short, he wouldn’t let her near his tummy or his bollocks. I had to hold him as she cut away and he tried to get loose and savage her.

Still, the benefits are there for all to see. He looks several years younger, several kilos lighter and there are no hairs all over the lounge.

The problem was his shampoo and set cost more than twice what I paid for Guy and myself combined. Working it out on an hourly basis, the lady in the poodle parlour is paid rougly the equivalent of a UK Member of Parliament but there’s no doubt she does a better job!

Shadow is pictured with his new hairstyle. He’s not as bad tempered as he looks – he hates having his picture taken.