Relative Things

I was cutting hair in one of our shops.  It was a smallish place with three chairs, seven waiting chairs, and a door that opened on to the main street in town.  The place was steeped in three quarters of a century of barbering tradition.  You could feel it when you came in.

On this particular day, for no particular reason, I was giving a cut and a shave to an older gent. By older I mean visibly older than myself. He was enjoying the experience as was I when another older gent walked in, followed within a minute by another.  I greeted both immediately and made the assessment that gent number two was not a talker.  Gent number three was, and he shot back cheer when he was greeted.

Finding a waiting seat he said, “it must be old geezer day at the barber shop!” I smiled, gent one just lay there letting the hot towel do its work. Gent two said, “Humph”. Gent 3 didn’t seem to be satisfied with the non-verbal communication going on.  He locked his gaze on Gent 2 intently and said, “I’m 83 ya know”. Gent 2 repeated his “humph” followed by, “Your just a kid. I’m 87.”  Silence.

I guess everything is a matter of perspective.

 

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