Although I absolutely hate the colour of my work uniform, (it is the same grotty grey that you get when you put black and white items together on a hot wash) I am at least grateful that I don’t have to worry what I have to wear each day.
I have worked in offices in the past and it was always a challenge to come up with a different outfit every day, that was suitable for the office, and for the weather. I always like to try to look smart even if I never manage classy or elegant that I wish I was!
Anyway, myself and Mr Grump decided to nip into town today to have a mooch about, plus there were a couple of things we wanted to get. I told him that I was ‘just going to look in the window’ of the hairdressers I usually frequent to see if they were busy.
As luck would have it they weren’t. That is pretty rare so I asked the if they could fit me in for a quick trim as my fringe had grown right out and my hair was looking a bit tatty! There were two stylists working, one young dark-haired woman and an older woman with blonde hair, she was the one that ushered me off to do my hair.
As she was snipping away and chatting, I kind of turned to the side to reply, and almost got a faceful of boob! She was not a small woman, but I think the top she was wearing might have shrunk or something, as I was confronted by what looked like two shelled hard-boiled eggs (only about 5 times the size) spilling out of two giant egg-cups, thinly covered by a scrap of black lycra masquerading as a t-shirt!
Mr Grump then bowled in and started moaning because I was mid haircut and he thought I would be ages. The shop phone went off and another girl appeared from upstairs, also in a low-cut number, boobs jiggling about as she descended each stair. Mr Grump’s eyes were popping out of his head! He had already clocked the woman doing my hair, and now he was treated to this other spectacle as well.
He decided to hang around for a bit longer, but i was almost done anyway. As we came out of the shop, he said with what he hoped conveyed disapproval,
“Every time you go in there those girls have got their t**s out!” So that’s why he always comes in looking for me when he knows exactly where I have gone!
Hmmmm, isn’t it about time that hairdressers wore a uniform?!