“Who is the fairest of us all?” Do we all wonder that as we sit in the hairdresser’s chair? I use the word “we” very loosely because I never go to a hairdresser and not everyone else does either, at least not to a ladies’ hairdresser – take Roland, for example. This is his experience as related to me over the telephone earlier.

“I went to the hairdresser’s today,” Roly began. “It was my first time in a ladies’ hairdressing salon. What I mean is that I’ve been to unisex salons before but only where the sign for men’s hair cuts comes first. On this occasion the sign was definitely for ladies, and the “We also cut men’s hair” bit was an add on at the end.”

“That’s nice,” I replied (but I had a feeling he had something more to tell), “how did it go?”

“The hair looks alright but… I wasn’t too crazy on the wall of mirror – floor to ceiling – full frontal me!” he said.

“Oh dear! How close?”

“No more than five feet, and there was nowhere else to look but at myself,” his voice sounded anguished, “And the light…”

“Neon, was it?”

“Oh yes, full blast harsh neon. I could hardly bear to look at my reflection and all the lines,” he bemoaned.

“You shouldn’t have worn your glasses,” I suggested.

“I didn’t. Oh Sally, I had no idea that I looked so old. Luckily, I was on the middle chair and there was only one other customer, to my left.”

“Nonsense, you are quite handsome… for a man of your age,” I comforted.

“But that’s just because you never wear your glasses,” he rebutted.

“Anyway, why were you lucky to be on the middle chair?” I was bemused.

“Because, had it been busy, there would have been a whole line of faces looking at me in the middle. I remembered what you told me – that I should smile more often – so I tried a sneaky half-smile and hoped that the lady to my left wouldn’t notice…”

“And did she?”

“I don’t know, I was too busy smiling at myself in the mirror,” Roland replied. “Anyway, then I saw my neck and I tried stretching it like a tortoise to get rid of the line below my Adam’s apple.”

“What line? I never noticed a line…”

“And you won’t do. In future I’m going to go around stretching my neck like a tortoise!” Roly paused while I laughed then continued. “By the way, the lady to the left and her hairdresser, and my hairdresser had a really strange conversation about waxing.”

“What kind of waxing?”

“How should I know? Apparently the old method of heating wax is very painful and out of date – now they use sugar. They heat sugar and rip it off. I said it sounded painful and they said it was… but not quite so painful as hot wax. Then I suggested they might like to try using a blow torch…”

Methinks the ladies were having a bit of fun with Roland. And I daresay they had noticed all his strange antics in front of the wall to wall and floor to ceiling mirror; They may even have thought he looked quite handsome, if a bit over-pleased with himself and tortoise-like, especially for a man of his age.