After cut, on way out, stylist friend murmur receptionist re fee, point to line on hidden price list. Receptionist murmur back, expression on face is in “be frank with me” position. Bigfoot think that’s irregular. Stylist friend murmur back, serious face too.
Bigfoot think oh no now something awkward is going to happen about the paying.
Stylist friend nod at receptionist, turn on heel, walk away, no eye contact. Receptionist deep breath and—Bigfoot think oh no, here it comes—and then receptionist hold small pager aloft—what I thought was going to be a $35 haircut is going to be, like, two hundred dollars—and then notice small pager has tubing…
Hey. I noticed your son. I have diabetes too. (YOU DO? Really? Really?)
Look around salon for Bubs. Bigfoot gush This is my first time!** Meeting someone in the wild! You know, like not at a diabetes event! Receptionist, perfectly calm, yeah I could see his–you see how his tubing is hanging out of his pocket? Bubs out in parking lot, balancing on mini-curbs, hop-curb-hop. Tubing bob along hop-bob-hop. Nice day, door propped open. Bubs! Come back in here!
Looks up from curb. Hwhuh? (Just come back!) Motion wildly arm hinge at elbow & rotate wrist come back-come back-come back motion. Finally Bubs return.
She has diabetes too! She has a pump! She noticed your tubing hanging out of your pocket! Because she has diabetes!!!
Bubs smile. Pull pump out of pocket. Receptionist already pump in hand: Medtronic. Bubs hold Ping. Both gesture pumps toward each other, barely perceptible genuflect. It’s like they naturally know how to be in this situation while I have taken on the role of world’s most enthusiastic and least-necessary emcee.
(**That is not true. I’d forgotten about my real first time.)
And for celiac, this.