Category Archives: Bob Eckstein

Broke up with My Hairdresser by Bob Eckstein

It wasn’t that he dropped the comb on the floor and just continued using it or that I was bleeding behind my neck from a nick. No, the last straw came when I saw him in the mirror wipe his running nose with a bare hand which he then dipped into hair gel before running his hands through my head. I didn’t say anything, too stunned and mortified. Just went home and took two showers. What do you tip something like that?


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