On one of my recent visits to get my hair cut, there was a young guy in the chair behind me who came in with a special request. He was going to be starring in a play, and he needed his hair cut appropriately for the role. His stylist was the most earnest and possibly most oblivious woman I've ever heard try to carry on a conversation. She desperately wanted to participate in a meaningful dialogue, but she jumped to conclusions so quickly that it sounded like this:
MAN: "I'm in this play . . ."
STYLIST: "Ohhhhh, so like Shakespeare."
MAN: "No, this production is set in the Old West, and. . ."
STYLIST: "So you're looking for like a 1920s thing."
MAN: "I think more like the 1890s, but. . ."
STYLIST: "Ohhhhh, okay. Can you imagine how gross and dirty people's hair was back then? I suppose it doesn't matter much cuz you'll be wearing a cowboy hat."
MAN: "Well, actually, my character's from the city. The Ricochet Kid."
MAN: "I'm known for being able to shoot people by bouncing bullets off of things."
STYLIST: "Ohhhhhhhhhh. So like The Matrix."
MAN: (sigh) "Not exactly."
At this point my stylist stopped snipping away because we both had the giggles. I'm lucky I didn't lose an ear.