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This morning I was on my way to a trial and stopped in my local small town barber shop for a hair cut. (duh)
So anyway, I walk in, and there were a few other guys there. I sat down in a chair and the barber that usually cuts my hair excuses himself, says he'll be right back. I assumed he was going to relieve himself or something.
But, he quickly returns with a awesome, but disassembled old wingmaster. He couldn't get it back to together. He said he heard I knew a little about 870's and asked if I could get it back together.
So, as he cut my hair, I put the old wingmaster back together for him. He decided we should trade our labor... and made a date for the upcoming quail season.
Only in small town America.
:yup:
So anyway, I walk in, and there were a few other guys there. I sat down in a chair and the barber that usually cuts my hair excuses himself, says he'll be right back. I assumed he was going to relieve himself or something.
But, he quickly returns with a awesome, but disassembled old wingmaster. He couldn't get it back to together. He said he heard I knew a little about 870's and asked if I could get it back together.
So, as he cut my hair, I put the old wingmaster back together for him. He decided we should trade our labor... and made a date for the upcoming quail season.
Only in small town America.
:yup: