Ralph hated the plastic chairs they always had at hairdressers. He also hated the hairdressers themselves. Why do they always feel the urge t talk with him?, he asked himself. Couldn’t he just relax and sit there, daydreaming? Clearly not. Also why do the hairdressers even care? They probably don’t. They probably get paid to make conversation.
Ralph looked around as well he could, the chair not giving him a full 360° view. He was looking for Philip, his usual hairdresser. But he was not to be seen. Just as Ralph was about to get up and ask about Philip the most beautiful women he had ever seen came up to him.
“I’m afraid Philip just called in sick. I’m ready to replace him but we can also schedule another date if you’d like.”
“A date?”, Ralph swallowed.
By Sam Wasserman, 17, Berlin British School, Berlin, Germany