Man on Fire
My hair is insane lately. It looks like I stole a wig off a passed-out transvestite, and then no one bothered to tell me that I put it on backwards. I was standing outside a salon today over lunch, looking at their prices written on the window. No one was getting their hair cut, but two women were sitting in the salon. They must have spotted my hair and me reading their price list, because they both stood up and tried making eye contact. When one started for the door I slowly backed away, looking up like I'd been reading some other sign on their building. It would be like a person who's on fire trying to nonchalantly walk away from the fire department, but I just didn't have time for a haircut today.