Here’s some fun for a Friday:

I was getting my hair cut yesterday, and I found myself in the chair next to a talkative tween.

At one point, I was staring down at my iPhone, cursing AT&T, wondering how in the heck I could not have any service in the middle of Manhattan, when the tween screamed.

We’re talking a Halloween is coming, blood curdling, “I See Dead People” scream.

Everyone in the salon turned to look at her just in time to see her start to cry.  And cry. Her eyes were like sprinklers, and someone had obviously pulled the tween alarm.

“What’s the matter?” said the stylist.

The tween was staring straight in the mirror.  For the first time, she caught a glimpse of her new haircut.

“It’s too short!  What happened to my hair?  I hate it!!!”

The rest of us in the salon smirked.  It was sort of sweet (sort of).  Here was a kid that thought she got a bad haircut and wasn’t afraid to tell the stylist exactly how she felt.

The stylist tried to calm her, as did everyone else in the place.

“It looks great, hon.  You look so pretty.  It’s not too short.  It’s so stylish!  You’re adorable!”

“No, no, you don’t understand, ” said the tween.  “I’m going to have to get a whole new headshot now!”

Now there’s something I’d never hear if I were getting my haircut in Sturbridge!