So where had I got to? Oh yes, the barber of Saville had just finished doing a number on the mop that was my hair just 30mins before he’d set his ill prepared hands on it.
Pressing out into the darkness (the power still hadn’t come back) I was determined not to show up to work with my new, and impressively wonky, hairdo. As I made a beeline to the place a colleague had told me about I was kicking myself that I hadn’t walked the extra 10 minutes in the first place. Having said that i didn’t know what I had in store at that point. Ten minutes later I was sat in the chair of a barber shop that was hidden up a flight of dodgy stairs. At least it was well lit.
Although I was initially curious about why there were two women (in hijabs) helping to prepare me for my “fix” it turned out there was good reason. I don’t really think the barber initially understood why I was there… But after a bit of a discussion and some waving of arms he got the idea, with the concept of “fix this” being greeted by “no problem”, in a manner perhaps a little too akin to my prior experience.
A little apprehensively I let him start. Wondering why one of the assistants was quite so involved in holding the remnants of my hair I quickly realised why they were there. The Barber seemed to have had some kind of stroke and was cutting hair only with his right hand. The other limply sat on the side of my head and occasionally slid down my face, much to my amusement and his apologies.
With some direction, and greater skill than I could have imagined, he finished the job. I was happier with the end result of this experience than the previous but was more impressed by his confidence and desire to continue with his barber business than most would be given his physical circumstances.
Lesson learned… Despite how you feel impeded by life you’ve always something to give back.