Flippin' the Bitch Switch

The cute haircut I almost didn't have.

 I enter the salon at five minutes to three and tell the girl at the counter that I have a three o'clock appointment.

"Please be seated, Ma'am" she says.

I sit and while away the time till 3.20 p.m.

I catch her eye and raise an eyebrow. She goes scurrying around, speaking to all the stylists one by one, and looks furtively in my direction, but she doesn't come up to me even once to ask me who my appointment is with. She goes back to her desk and starts flipping through the pages of her appointment book like a crazed person. I walk up to her and ask her if there's a problem.

"No, no, Ma'am. No problem."

I sit down, and she tiptoes upto me and cocks her head to one side.

"Ma'am, could you just tell me your name once again please?"

"Diana."

Flip, flip, flip.

"Could you tell me your full name, Ma'am?"

"Diana. Mood. Swing."

She goes back to her desk, and I can hear her mumbling "Diana...Mood...Swing."

Then, like the bright, bursting, yellow sun rising in the East, signalling the end of a long, cold winter, it dawns on her.

She looks at me and smiles, and just stops short of wagging a finger at me and cooing "You naughty thing, you!"

"You're joking, no, Ma'am?" she asks, doing the Great Indian Head-Bobble.

"YOU HAVE EXACTLY SIXTY SECONDS TO FIND OUT."