I go to get my hair done by my attractive stylist, Judy, who is the only woman allowed to run her hands through my hair in public other than my wife. She first lathered my locks almost 12 years ago and has since gone on to have her own salon close to my home. On each visit, I get coffee, music, bottles of Paul Mitchell products to take home with me, and chat about nothing of any great importance. I leave relaxed, happy, and a little less wealthy. But the only thing she's ever said about my Triumph is how awesome it is.
You get, as they say, what you pay for.
Siggy
