When they had finished your haircut and were moving towards the till, they would lean over, pull a display box from behind a row of hair potions on the shelf, finger the box which you then saw contained condoms – normally Durex in those days – and ask, “Something for the weekend, Sir?” – even if it was only Monday! The first few times this happened to me was around 1955 and after having just left school and started work, I was extremely naïve and hadn't a clue what the barber meant.
The consequence was that the Indian session often became a quadralogue with all the members speaking at once.
I'm just a bit possessive of him, but don't get me wrong. I'm not so sure I'd kill the groupies that he tags along. It's really not his fault they're there, but that don't mean a thing— I'm still the one he's with, the only one to whom he sings.
In its God-like prime, The Simpsons attacked well-worn satirical fodder from unexpected angles, finding fresh laughs in the hoariest of subjects.
