* Home alone.
Still no word from my partner as to when her tribal summons will expire. I watch a DVD with a great deal of gratuitous violence in its content. I muse that few would condemn my viewing the many unfortunate ends met by the characters in this film. Yet nobody ever calls and says, "quick someone has died in an accident come and see". Even though everyone rubber necks at accidents.
My reverie is broken by a friend calling. I assumed he was calling to exchange seasonal pleasantries, but no.
He was travelling by train to London when it occurred to him that he hadn't noticed any 'gingers' (people with naturally red hair) of late. He decided to walk the full length of the train as part of his research and could not find one, only people with dyed red which don't count.
Walking the streets of London town he noted not a one. His conclusion was not that the gene for ginger hair was permanently recessive but that "Gingers are dyeing their hair!". It occurred to him that you could be chatting away to someone totally unaware that they were a 'ginger'!. He seemed dissappointed at my muted response. He then mentioned that he knew my partner had a visiting hair stylist and would I ring her stylist and ask if she was dyeing any ginger hair brown or blonde.
I protested that no way was I doing any such thing. I suggested that he find a Ladies hairdressers that was doing little business and enquire himself. This thought had occured to him but he concluded it was easy for me to do it. Failing to convince me he finally left muttering to himself.
I was left contemplating the demise of the red end of the spectrum as a hair colour.