Can you make me look like Uma Thurman*, except bald?

Today is my late day at work, and I used the morning to run some errands in the Loop, including getting my driver's license renewed. At Monroe and Dearborn, a couple of husky young men approached me. One of them said, "Excuse me, ma'am. Can I ask you a question?" I could tell he was gearing up for a sales spiel. "Do you get your hair cut at a salon here in Chicago?" Yes, I answered.

Some of the big chain salons stir up business by trying to solicit new customers off the street. I was surprised this time, because they usually target areas near college campuses, and frankly, I am the wrong age. This is the first time I've been approached since I hit 40. Not that I mind being ignored; a couple of times after I rebuffed sidewalk hair hawkers, they insulted my current cut. One time, near the end of my run as part of the youth demographic, one of them muttered "Ah..you're too old for us, anyway," as I walked away.

Back to this morning: For a second, I was tempted to mess with him. Perhaps listen to the entire script, looking at first slightly skeptical, then show a little more interest, and finally ask him if the salon had any special deals for bald people. Instead, I put a hand on his meaty arm, and gently interrupted his pitch, "I don't think we can do business, sweetie. I'm starting chemo tomorrow."


*I am not trying to increase hits to my blog by using Uma Thurman as a tag. If I wanted to do that, I would use Scarlett Johansson, instead.