Gary Gets a Haircut

Gary came in after his first non-Sue haircut in 26 years.

“Looks nice,” I said, “Who’d you have cut it?”
“Linda. She cut my hair once before Sue started cutting it.”
“Huh. And you were able to find her again?”
“Well, she followed Sue to that one place in Hazelwood. Oh, and she said she remembered my hair.”
“She remembered it. From the one time she cut it twenty-six years ago.”
“Yes!”
“No.”
“Yes! She said she remembered my hair was reddish-brown.”
“Gary….you know your hair was never reddish-brown, don’t you?”
“Well, it was reddish-brown twenty-five years ago.”
“No. No, it wasn’t”
He looked confused. “I think it was.”
“I can show you pictures. It’s been light brown or gray since I’ve known you.” (And because I could see he was gearing up to be obstinate and insist “My hair has always been red! Titian red!” I had to give him an out.) “Now, you said once the first beard you tried to grow was reddish-brown. Maybe she saw that?”
“No. Remember she’s a hair stylist, she looks and sees detail in hair that normal people don’t see.”
“Did she see your pubic hair? Maybe that was that reddish-brown twenty-five years ago.”
“Oh, that reminds me. Remember I told you once I couldn’t have her cut my hair again because when she leaned in to cut my hair her breasts touched me? She still has her breasts.”
“Well. Good for her.”
“I thought when I looked at her they might have gone away, but they haven’t.”

(Pointed silence, followed by a moment of frosty quiet.)

“But they didn’t touch me this time,” he assured me.

I just want to know something. I just want to know if my boobs have ever made such an impression on some 27-year old that he remembers them after a quarter of a century. I want to know if my boobs have the power to make a man doubt his own hair color. I want to know if I can come back from visiting Marcia’s hair stylist Hot Steve and say, “His penis! It reached out and tapped me on the shoulder. I will never forget it. Oh, and he says my hair isn’t brown, it’s cinnamon. He’s so cute.”