The steadily passing lights bounce frantically off the reflective sign above you. The diagonal stripes on the sign remind you of a barber’s pole, only the colors are all wrong. They’re not red and white, but a dull yellow and obsidian black. It’s funny, you don’t remember driving to the barber shop.
The reflected light makes a double bounce against the faces of the two strangers at either side of the sign. The man with the funny moustache asks the girl with the dumb hair something like what the fuck is wrong with his head. Since he’s pointing that Snidely Whiplash Official Club Seal right at your face, you can only assume the head in question is yours. She replies with something like I don’t know, how does that even happen. It’s hard to make out exactly – something’s wrong with your ears.
You reach up to your head to check what all the fuss is about. Your hand trembles violently as it travels, which is strange, but it definitely isn’t the D.T.s because you’ve had plenty to drink today. Your fingers touch your head but you don’t feel any hair. In its place is something wet and soft and weirdly squishy, like a dish sponge that’s been left in a damp sink for too long. You pull your hand away and bring it to your eyes. You can see your fingers are coated in a deep scarlet liquid.
Barber must have fucked up your hair cut real bad. Can’t say you’d expect more from a guy who can’t order a proper candy striped pole.