I Really Like Your Hair
by Digby Beaumont
Laurence stood outside the Ex-Press Dry Cleaners, peering in through the window.
Over the years that he’d patronized the business, he’d always found the owner to
be a quiet and thoughtful man. Qualities Laurence liked. The two of them were in
the same early forties age bracket, too.
When he entered, he reminded himself of the advice he’d read on the website
earlier that day about striking up new friendships: “Smile, and make other people
feel good about themselves.”
“Hello, there. How are you?” he said, approaching the counter. “Lovely day.”
The owner made a grunting noise while avoiding eye contact.
“It’s a suit. Dark blue,” Laurence said, keeping a grin locked in place as he handed
over his ticket.
While the man searched among the racks of garments, Laurence desperately tried
to come up with something else to say, to break the ice. Finally, he called out,
“Best dry cleaner’s around.”
The man stopped looking for the suit and stared at him. “Excuse me?”
Laurence cleared his throat. “I was just saying: you’re the best dry cleaner’s
around. In my opinion. Prompt service, great prices, excellent. You do alterations,
too.”
The man picked out the suit in silence and, keeping his eyes fixed on Laurence,
brought it over and laid it out on the counter in its cellophane wrapper.
Laurence could feel himself floundering under the man’s gaze. He pointed at him.
“You know, I really like your hair.”
“What?”
“Your hair. It’s different, isn’t it, to the way you normally have it? I thought I might
have mine done like that. A close crop.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, it looks good on you. Really suits you. Where do you get it done, may I ask?”
“Nowhere.”
“Sorry?”
The man scowled. “I don’t go anywhere. My wife cuts it.” He turned to the middle-
aged woman who had just appeared through a doorway at the back of the shop.
“Jean, can you finish off this customer for me, please?”
On his walk home, Laurence kept replaying the conversation with the dry cleaner
over and over in his mind, wondering where he might have gone wrong. He would
definitely have to look up that website again tonight to see if it held the answer.
# # #
by Digby Beaumont
Laurence stood outside the Ex-Press Dry Cleaners, peering in through the window.
Over the years that he’d patronized the business, he’d always found the owner to
be a quiet and thoughtful man. Qualities Laurence liked. The two of them were in
the same early forties age bracket, too.
When he entered, he reminded himself of the advice he’d read on the website
earlier that day about striking up new friendships: “Smile, and make other people
feel good about themselves.”
“Hello, there. How are you?” he said, approaching the counter. “Lovely day.”
The owner made a grunting noise while avoiding eye contact.
“It’s a suit. Dark blue,” Laurence said, keeping a grin locked in place as he handed
over his ticket.
While the man searched among the racks of garments, Laurence desperately tried
to come up with something else to say, to break the ice. Finally, he called out,
“Best dry cleaner’s around.”
The man stopped looking for the suit and stared at him. “Excuse me?”
Laurence cleared his throat. “I was just saying: you’re the best dry cleaner’s
around. In my opinion. Prompt service, great prices, excellent. You do alterations,
too.”
The man picked out the suit in silence and, keeping his eyes fixed on Laurence,
brought it over and laid it out on the counter in its cellophane wrapper.
Laurence could feel himself floundering under the man’s gaze. He pointed at him.
“You know, I really like your hair.”
“What?”
“Your hair. It’s different, isn’t it, to the way you normally have it? I thought I might
have mine done like that. A close crop.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, it looks good on you. Really suits you. Where do you get it done, may I ask?”
“Nowhere.”
“Sorry?”
The man scowled. “I don’t go anywhere. My wife cuts it.” He turned to the middle-
aged woman who had just appeared through a doorway at the back of the shop.
“Jean, can you finish off this customer for me, please?”
On his walk home, Laurence kept replaying the conversation with the dry cleaner
over and over in his mind, wondering where he might have gone wrong. He would
definitely have to look up that website again tonight to see if it held the answer.
# # #
DIGBY BEAUMONT has been writing short
fiction for around five years. His work has
appeared in literary magazines and journals
such as Leafing Through, Barfing Frog Press,
The Raging Face, Zygote in My Coffee, Laura
Hird's Showcase, Whim's Place, and The
Scruffy Dog Review, among others. His
stories have also been chosen for print
anthologies: "Small Voices, Big
Confessions" (Edit Red), "On a Whim" (Whim’
s Place) and the forthcoming 2007 Edit Red
anthology. He lives in Brighton on the south
coast of England .
fiction for around five years. His work has
appeared in literary magazines and journals
such as Leafing Through, Barfing Frog Press,
The Raging Face, Zygote in My Coffee, Laura
Hird's Showcase, Whim's Place, and The
Scruffy Dog Review, among others. His
stories have also been chosen for print
anthologies: "Small Voices, Big
Confessions" (Edit Red), "On a Whim" (Whim’
s Place) and the forthcoming 2007 Edit Red
anthology. He lives in Brighton on the south
coast of England .
