Closed For Lunch

I didn't have much time to wander around Market Square at lunchtime so I was very happy to spot these two folk standing outside the Gents Barbershop, pretty much opposite Shipley Health Store where I get my sandwich every workday. The Barber's was closed for lunch and they were waiting for it to be opened up so they could get their hair cut. The Barber was somewhat overdue. I suspect he was in the pub nearby!

They were both so well groomed that I couldn't really see the point of getting their hair cut. There didn't seem to be enough to warrant it. I tend to put the process off way past the point where a trim is needed. I suspect with these guys that it's more about social engagement than actual necessity. I've had a bit of a flashback to my childhood and my dad taking to be the Barber's. I can recall the exotic smells of shaving creams and lotions, the percussive click of the scissors - and, of course, the incessant conversation.

I remember being vaguely in awe of my dad for his ability to converse with the barber on any kind of subject. I hated being asked questions at that young age. I found the conversation difficult but I was more comfortable with that than silence so I stumbled along just counting down the seconds until the job was done. The final part of the process was always the holding of a mirror behind the back of the head to check if the cut was ok. I so wanted to say no, tell them it was too short and ask if they could make it a bit longer. But I never did.