At the hairdressers

My hairdresser looked at me. “The beard’s gone!” I’d been rumbled. All the way there I was playing out in my mind what I was going to say to him.
‘I shaved it off for charity’.
‘That’s really impressive’, he’d reply and waive my fee.
‘My wife hated it so much I had to cut it off’.
“My deepest sympathies’, he’d reply and waive my fee.
‘I got hot and just had to get the damn thing off my face’, is what I actually said.
‘Right, I’d better tidy up the mess then’, is what he actually said, charging me an extra £6 for the trouble.
On the plus side, according to my hairdresser, the good thing about beards is that they grow back.
I’m going to stick with my goatee for now, I told him. ‘Well if you do decide to get rid of that too, please come to me first.’

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