This week’s Velvet Verbosity 100-Word Story prompt is the word “Beard.”
Albert, the town barber, arrived at his shop to find a customer waiting.
“I thought you’d never get here!” the customer said.
Albert’s eyes grew round.
“Well, don’t just stand there,” the customer said, now in the chair. “Quick! Get me shaved.”
“Oh … I couldn’t! I just couldn’t ! That’s the most perfect beard I’ve ever seen.”
“Why, it’s thick and velvety, with perfect color. Every barber longs for a customer with a beard like that to care for. I’ll delight in trimming it for you, but I could never shave it off.”
“Don’t be ridiculous! What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m sorry to upset you, M’am. But I will not shave off your beard.”
I’ve reached the time of my life where I’ve had to learn to deal with one of those aggravating challenges that nag at ladies in their middle age years: those confounded extra hairs that keep cropping up above our upper lips and on our lower chins. Testy little things they are, and our determination to get rid of them – and keep getting rid of them when necessary – is without limit.
There are a number of weapons in our arsenal: creams, waxes, strips, eye-brow shapers, tweezers, and any number of exfoliating gadgets sold “only on TV.” So far, no one I know has had to resort to visiting Albert (thank God), but my personal small warfare in this area has undoubtedly attributed to my whimsical take on this week’s prompt.
Clipart courtesy of http://www.wpclipart.com/working/signs/barber_pole.png.html