Dressed in yellow, she says, "Hello".

It happens to me every time.

My haircut place doesn't always have the greatest music playing. In fact, most of the time it's downright annoying. You know, the greatest hits of Peter Cetera kinda' stuff. The occasional Richard Marx anthem. That really cheesy mid-era Billy Joel (and, well, the new-era Billy Joel for that matter). But usually when I go in there there's at least one song worth listening to that gets played over their wispy ceiling speakers.

Cruel fate, why do you mock me?

It happens at the same time every time. I'll get called back to the chair, take a seat, do the little pre-cut interview questionnaire and get escorted back to the shampoo-station. And as I'm walking back there, the good song will come on. Last time it was "Sussudio" by Phil Collins. This time: "Bust a Move". So I get to listen to perhaps five seconds of the good song before the loud water faucet is turned on and drowns it out. Ugh. Why couldn't the water drown out "When a Man Loves a Woman"? or "Somewhere Out There?" Why the good stuff? WHY? WHY?

This may sound petty to you, but getting my haircut is a pretty stressful experience, and it's a big help to have a story told by a guy about a girl who don't even know his name, but he thinks she likes him just the same.

The rest of the day is going to be marked by me picking small pieces of hair out of my computer keyboard.