|"How long you been in Georgia?"
"Let's see, I moved down in '87 when I needed to transfer to a 4-year university. I was majoring in Education and thought I wanted to be a teacher..."
It was then I noticed something out of the corner of my good (left) eye that caught me a little off guard. The lady that was cutting my hair had the shakes, the tremors, the trembles, whatever you want to call it. She had an unsteady hand and was holding a pair of razor sharp shears heading directly towards my left ear.
"Honey, when did you say that you moved to Georgia?"
"It was 1987." (tremble)(snip) "Where are you from?" I asked.
"Here and there," the stylist replied. (tremor) (snip snip) (shake) "How's your Mamma and them? They all right? You got any kids? Are you married?" (Shake)
The conversation continued this way for the next several moments. I would ask her a question and she would give me a one-word answer and then try and get me to start talking about myself. Now some people, and I'm one of 'em, get to talking about themselves and they can't concentrate on anything other than what is being discussed, which is them. (Shake)
I finally realized that I was being distracted. If I wasn't really paying attention to my stylist it would be easier for me to overlook those trembling hands when they gently nudged my right ear with the tip of the scissors...