The Opposite Of An Erotic Haircut
So I’m headed in to work a couple days ago when a fellow I’ve never met before in another department tells me to get a haircut. I take a look once I get to my office and sure enough it’s been over a month since my last haircut. I normally let myself get a little shaggier than this before getting a cut but if people are commenting it’s time to take action.
So I go to my haircut place (I refuse to call it a salon) and begin to get my haircut when the small talk takes an uncomfortable turn.
Hairdresser: So did you hear about those 6 people found dead in Surrey?
Me: Um, no.
Her: Yea, they were all found dead.
Me: Huh.
Her: In the same place.
Me: That’s…unfortunate.
Her: I read about it in the paper today.
Me: Ah.
Her: But they were found on Friday.
Me: Oh.
Her: Isn’t that sad?
Me: Yea.
Awkward silence.
Her: They were all dead.
Me: Hmmm.
Her: In the same place.
Awkward silence.
Is there something I’m supposed to say here? Was she just feeling some psychological need to share something that made her sad in order to deal with it? If so I daresay work might not be the best venue for such a discussion, especially with someone as poorly equipped as myself.
Today, several days later, I read in the paper about how the people were shot as part of a gang war. Perhaps there was a subtext to the conversation that went over my head. Perhaps that’s for the best.
