Who tips the hairdresser?

My grandmother, Nanna, lives in her own home with 24/7 care. There are very few things she can do for herself these days, but this isn’t a problem because she is extremely adept at getting other people to do everything for her. Take her hairdresser, for example. Nanna isn’t allowed to drive anymore, but she can still get to the beauty shop because her hairdresser drives her there and back (and humors her with occasional side trips to the McDonald’s drive-thru). This seems to me extremely generous, because the reason Nanna isn’t allowed to drive anymore is that she crashed her car through the plate glass window of this selfsame hairdresser’s establishment. Yes, you read that correctly.

When my uncle heard that this long-suffering hairdresser was acting as her chauffeur, he asked Nanna how much she tipped her.

“Tip?” she asked. “Why would I tip the hairdresser?”

My grandmother is a woman who has no problem calling up a neighbor and asking her to stop by on her way to work and tie her shoes for her. She is also on good terms with the local police, as my aunt discovered when the constabulary was summoned to the house to help my grandmother up from the floor after a fall.

“I am so sorry you had to come out for this,” my aunt apologized.

“Oh, no problem!” they said. “We do it all the time!”

It turns out that every time Nanna takes a tumble, she calls the police to come help her up. Why, you may ask? Well, because if you call an ambulance they charge you. The police are free.

I’m pretty sure my grandmother is the driving force behind all those ads about frivolous 911 calls.


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