My haircut was free of cost. That artist took me in as a model; well not the slim and trim (ha ha ha) model, the bakra you make sit for 30 minutes so that you can try new haircuts on him/her. So, anyway, she takes me to Khar, to some sidey salon, and she cuts my hair for two hours.
A prologue here: my hair was, before the disaster, 5 inches long at the pinnacle of its length. So a haircut meant, as I told the girl very clearly, that she reduce it to a minimum of 4 inches.
Apparently she hears everything in halves or doubles. So instead of the hair going to 4 inches in half an hour, it goes to 2 inches in an hour.
I kept asking her to not make it too short. But you know these girls, a Sony-Ericsson in their ears makes them 80% deaf. She kept nodding, and when she was done, I was fuming. I looked like the Scribe I remember 8 years back. Even then I wasn't that much of a pleasant sight.
Being the decent, patient person I am, I decided 15 kilometres wasn't all that a favourable place to throw a tantrum.
So, you suffer, dearest bloggie.
Here's todays schedule anyway.
7.45 am: Wakey
8.15 am: Running
9.30 am: Beautician comes over
11 am: She finishes, after 5 10 minute long phone calls.
3 pm: I leave for Khar
4.30 pm: I reach Khar, courtesy a random acquaintance of beautician who meets her at the station.
5.15 pm: I sit for the Cut
6.45 pm: she's finally done with it
8.30 pm: She packs up with Dostini and Saxxxy, equally bored yet calmer.
8.45 pm: I'm running the marathon so that I can collect my cellphone.
9.15 pm: After the cell still not being repaired, I walk off to meet Dostini and Saxxxy who're buying Perennial's cake.
9.30 pm: We leave Vile Parle for home
9.45 pm: We reach the building
10.15 PM: Perennial already knows about the surprise, so we make a few changes, only to revert to plan A
And if everything goes well, half an hour from now, Dabba, Saxxxy and Dostini will be here with the cake, ready to go to Perennial's place for the ritualistic 'surprise'.