The three Bs

So I just executed what I like to call the three Bs; bank, barbers and bakers. I withdrew my buy-in from the bank for this WSOP nonsense and I have to say it was the most painful withdrawal I've experienced since that time I had to pull out of that "Irish" waitress in Boston in a hurry after calling her by the wrong name.

"Are you buying anything nice?" inquired the cashier who I assume couldn't give a toss really and was just making small talk. "Hopefully eventually, but this is to play poker with," I replied sheepishly. "Oh OK," says she with a look on her face like I was a clot in her menstrual blood. Poker still not quite recognised as a legitimate vocation then.

Welcome to LLoyds-TSB: unless you're a
degenerate gambler in which case fuck off.

At the barbers I do the gentlemanly thing and allow a young miss with her son to enter before me. I shouldn't have. No more being a gentleman for me when it comes to entering the barbers. The boy was maybe four or five judging by his appalling vocabulary and fidgeting. Sat in the chair he immediately begins crying. After some time his mother ascertains that the apron thing they wrap around you is the wrong colour and too big and he does not like it.

Instead of beating him within an inch of his life for being so pathetic and embarrassing her, she just holds him near and tries to persuade him that the apron is a nice colour, but it would be OK if he didn't want it wrapped around him. Some twenty minutes later as I was fixing to cuff the little fucker around the ears, she announces she is to walk him to the nearest sweet shop and will be back later.

It's enough to make you weep. When I was a kid you had to have snapped your spine before you were allowed to cry in public. I would never have cried in a barbers like this at that age anyway because I wasn't paying for hair cuts until I was at an age where I'd lost interest in lego in favour of tits. I'm quite sure my hair was trimmed by my mother with a knife until then. Kids today don't know they're born.

Thank the lord I have a nice sammich to eat to take my mind off the desperate state of the country and my bank account.