My lovely man goes to a barber. They are very pleasant. They rid him of all sorts of facial hair, thank goodness.
The fellows are not well versed in English. I think they are Eygyptian. (I can hear you bursting into song as to how they walk).
Nevertheless, we bumble through and he gets his short back and sides.
I was sitting and waiting recently. Keeping myself to myself. The fellow kept on glancing at me. I smiled sweetly.
Suddenly, he pounced. Stroking my cheek. Yes!
And then there was thread and he was ‘threading’ the fuzz on my cheek.
It’s a curse I tell you. Must be getting worse …. my fluffy face.
Also, threading is sore, not recommended. I beat him off with my handbag.