Today I got my hair cut - an acutely anxiety provoking activity which I wrote about once before here.
I don't have too much to add to what I said then, except to say that all my worst nightmares came true on this occasion.
Kayla, ever the professional, smilingly said the following: "I'm just gonna pop a tissue on you there because I seem to have taken the top off a bleeding sore on your head with my comb."
I took in the scene in the mirror before me: Kayla smilingly holding a blooded tissue above my head, my own blushing, horrified face, and the face of the woman next to me which read "OMG, that woman has actually got leprosy?"
Oddbabble. Glamour is her middle name.