A challenging morning, mostly of my own invention. I was to go to lunch later on with my ex-wife and friends, but it was so damn hot that I thought I'd get a haircut first. Also, the hair has grown so long that it's bothering the sore on my ear--you know, always rubbing against it, irritating it.
So I popped up the street to the usual barbershop, only to find it closed. The sign on the door said "Open at 4:30". What kind of barbershop opens at 4:30? Maybe the kind that's not doing a lot of business? Or maybe the barbers are off at a ceremony? But no, that can't be, because most of them are from Java, not Bali, and it's the Balinese that do the ceremony thing.
Anyway, I thought 'Well, there's a barbershop over on Tukad Buyon, still close to my house. So I headed down there, but given that this took me on the same road that leads to Sanur, my brain kicked in with automatic pilot and I was nearly to Sanur by the time I remembered what I was supposed to be doing.
Oh well. I recalled seeing a new shop in Sanur, so I figured I'd just go to that one. However, as it turned out, I could not find it again to save my life.
Dripping with sweat, I stopped for a coffee (at least I didn't forget where the Starbucks is), and upon finishing the coffee, decided that I did not want to show up for the lunch in my increasingly soggy condition.
Home for a shower, then--and hey, I can stop this time by the barber I previously meant to stop at on Tukad Buyon.
Automatic pilot, however, frustrated this plan once again.
At home, after showering, I decided I should really resort to a pair of shorts today, even though my ex doesn't like me to wear them because they make my legs look too skinny. (I beg to differ on this point. It is not the shorts that make my legs look skinny. It is my legs that make themselves look skinny).
Now, the only decent pair of shorts I have is a pair of brown shorts, and for this I would need to wear brown sandals. The heel strap on my brown sandals has long been in need of repair, and I had long ago bought a little bottle of superglue to effect said repair. So, no time like the present.
This bottle of superglue is rather cleverly done. It comes in the package with a detached screw-on cap, and when you screw on the cap, the seal is punctured, thus allowing the superglue to escape the tube.
And escape it did. Soon, most of the fingers on both of my hands were glued to each other (though not a bit of the glue had yet gotten onto the sandal). I was in a bit of a panic, as it seemed like the thumb and middle finger of my right hand were about to be fixed permanently into the position of an "A-Ok" sign. Happily, a generous amount of dish washing liquid and hot water finally released them from one another.
By now, it must be getting late, I thought. So I went to check the time on my cell phone, and found the touch ID no longer works. The superglue has erased my thumbprint.
Off to lunch now. Hopefully my newly glued sandal will not end up permanently glued to my foot.
Wish me luck.
So I popped up the street to the usual barbershop, only to find it closed. The sign on the door said "Open at 4:30". What kind of barbershop opens at 4:30? Maybe the kind that's not doing a lot of business? Or maybe the barbers are off at a ceremony? But no, that can't be, because most of them are from Java, not Bali, and it's the Balinese that do the ceremony thing.
Anyway, I thought 'Well, there's a barbershop over on Tukad Buyon, still close to my house. So I headed down there, but given that this took me on the same road that leads to Sanur, my brain kicked in with automatic pilot and I was nearly to Sanur by the time I remembered what I was supposed to be doing.
Oh well. I recalled seeing a new shop in Sanur, so I figured I'd just go to that one. However, as it turned out, I could not find it again to save my life.
Dripping with sweat, I stopped for a coffee (at least I didn't forget where the Starbucks is), and upon finishing the coffee, decided that I did not want to show up for the lunch in my increasingly soggy condition.
Home for a shower, then--and hey, I can stop this time by the barber I previously meant to stop at on Tukad Buyon.
Automatic pilot, however, frustrated this plan once again.
At home, after showering, I decided I should really resort to a pair of shorts today, even though my ex doesn't like me to wear them because they make my legs look too skinny. (I beg to differ on this point. It is not the shorts that make my legs look skinny. It is my legs that make themselves look skinny).
Now, the only decent pair of shorts I have is a pair of brown shorts, and for this I would need to wear brown sandals. The heel strap on my brown sandals has long been in need of repair, and I had long ago bought a little bottle of superglue to effect said repair. So, no time like the present.
This bottle of superglue is rather cleverly done. It comes in the package with a detached screw-on cap, and when you screw on the cap, the seal is punctured, thus allowing the superglue to escape the tube.
And escape it did. Soon, most of the fingers on both of my hands were glued to each other (though not a bit of the glue had yet gotten onto the sandal). I was in a bit of a panic, as it seemed like the thumb and middle finger of my right hand were about to be fixed permanently into the position of an "A-Ok" sign. Happily, a generous amount of dish washing liquid and hot water finally released them from one another.
By now, it must be getting late, I thought. So I went to check the time on my cell phone, and found the touch ID no longer works. The superglue has erased my thumbprint.
Off to lunch now. Hopefully my newly glued sandal will not end up permanently glued to my foot.
Wish me luck.
1 comment:
A-Ok!
Unfortunately my back really hurts when laughing, so I had to take several breaks reading
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