Romance... I remember, I’m in the bus, I’ve laid off the fresh-washed hair, invited the beard and here she enters the salon, red-washed and looks straight into my eyes. And I look at her, with such a challenge, and she doesn’t look away. This is my day! But already my stop, I go to the exit, she digs into the bag, quickly writes on the paper the phone number and stretches me. I fly home, I wait for an hour, to be sure, I am well expelled, so that I don't fall, I carefully pick the desired number... Hairdresser :(