#4 Sorry - We're Closed

Martin pulled his car into the hair salon parking lot. It was 10 minutes to six by his watch. A "Sorry - we're closed" sign hung on the door. He could see through the large glass windows that one of the hairdressers busied herself cleaning up.


Martin leapt from the car. As he neared the door, he saw the hours of operation sign. "Open until 6," he said. "They always try and knock off early in the kind of places."


Martin knocked on the door. He wrapped against the glass with his knuckles. The woman within laid aside her broom and came to the door. She turned the bolt and smiling sweetly said, "I'm sorry sir, but we're closed."


"But your sign says open til 6. That's ten minutes from now. You have to wait on me. By law you do!"


"Sir," the woman started, "did you have an appointment?"


"No. I don't have an appointment."


"So you've never been here before, either?"


Martin sighed, "No. Never. Look, I have an appointment tomorrow morning that is critical for my job. My regular barber took sick and closed his shop today. I don't need an appointment to see him, by the way. I drive by this place everyday so I figured I would stop on my way home, before you closed, which I clearly did on time and get a haircut. Now please let me in. I demand it." Martin crossed his arms and looked down at the hairdresser. He towered over her.


She stepped aside and opened the door. "We only cut women's hair here, sir so this is gonna cost you."

"Oh, I'm sure it will,"Martin muttered. He walked inside and heard the door close and lock behind him.


"Take the last chair near the hair washing station. It'll be easier to clean up back there."

Martin obeyed and walked the 40 feet to the back of the salon. He plopped in a chair and took off his glasses. The parking lot was sloped and he couldn't even see the outline of his car from back here.


"What's this big appointment that you have tomorrow?" she asked.


"Can we stop with the small talk? You're job is to give me a cut. Let's just get on with it. If you can do it in silence, you'll be rewarded with your tip."

She came up behind him and opened his throat with a straight razor. Martin watched the blood spray onto the mirror across from him. She spun the chair to face her. She smiled broadly. The razor held at an angle away from her body, blood dripping from her hand.

"There's your cut. Now, if you don't mind, I like small talk. It keeps my mind from flashing all over the place. Keeps me focused. So you just finish bleeding out and then I'll take you downstairs. With the others."