Man, what a day! I’m tellin’ ya, being a barber in Gravesend is like riding a rollercoaster blindfolded. One minute you’re snippin’ away, the next you’re dodging drama like it’s a game of dodgeball.
So, I roll into the shop on Windmill Street, right? It’s a typical Tuesday, or so I thought. The sun’s out, but it’s still chilly. I’m thinkin’, “Great, another day of the same ol’ same ol’.” But nah, not today.
First customer walks in. It’s Dave, the local postie. He’s got this wild hair, like he just survived a tornado. I’m like, “Mate, what happened to ya?” He laughs, says he got caught in the rain. I’m like, “Rain? In Gravesend? Shocker!” So, I start givin’ him a trim, and halfway through, he spills his whole life story. Turns out, he’s been tryin’ to impress this girl from the High Street. I’m like, “Bro, just be yourself!” But he’s convinced he needs a new look.
Then, outta nowhere, the door swings open. It’s Mrs. Jenkins from down the road. She’s got her poodle, Mr. Fluffykins, in tow. I swear, that dog’s got more attitude than half the blokes I know. She’s all, “Can you give him a trim too?” I’m like, “Sure, but I ain’t a dog groomer!” But hey, it’s Gravesend, so why not?
While I’m tryin’ to tame Mr. Fluffykins, I hear this commotion outside. I peek out the window on King Street, and there’s a bunch of kids playin’ footy. One of ‘em kicks the ball, and it smashes into a shop window. Glass goes everywhere! I’m thinkin’, “Great, just what we need.” But the shopkeeper, old Mr. Patel, comes out laughin’. He’s like, “Kids will be kids!” I’m standin’ there, half-laughin’, half-worried.
After that, I get back to Dave. He’s still ramblin’ on about his crush. I’m like, “Dude, just ask her out already!” But he’s all nervous. I mean, come on, it’s Gravesend! We’re not in London. Just go for it!
Then, my mate Tom pops in. He’s got this wild idea to start a barbershop choir. I’m like, “Tom, we can’t even sing in the shower!” But he’s serious. He’s like, “Think about it! We could be famous!” I’m just shakin’ my head, laughin’.
By now, it’s lunchtime, and I’m starvin’. I decide to pop over to the kebab shop on the corner of Parrock Street. Best kebabs in town, no doubt. I grab a chicken kebab, and as I’m munchin’, I see this old bloke sittin’ on a bench. He’s got a sign that says, “Free hugs.” I’m like, “What the heck?” But then I think, “Why not?” So, I go over, give him a hug. He smells like old books and wisdom.
Back at the shop, things get wild. A group of lads come in, all hyped up. They’re talkin’ about the Gravesend football team. Apparently, they won some big match. They’re shoutin’, laughin’, and I’m just tryin’ to keep it together. One of ‘em sits in my chair, and I’m like, “You sure you want a haircut? You look like you just came from a rave!”
As the day winds down, I’m feelin’ a mix of emotions. Happy, angry, surprised. Gravesend’s a mad place, full of characters. I love it, though. It’s home.
Finally, I close up shop. I’m knackered but satisfied. I walk down the Thames Path, watchin’ the river flow. It’s peaceful, ya know? Just me and my thoughts. I think about tomorrow. More haircuts, more stories. Bring it on, Gravesend!