"Want to hear a real freak tragedy. My cousin’s friend Barry…” he paused, “I think his name was Barry.”
He threw his arms up over his head, giving up in the detail of the name.
“Shit, I’ll just call him Barry.” Frank nodded.
“Well Barry’s wife went to go get her hair done at some high fashion salon. The stylist asked her to tilt her head down, and then BAM, Barry’s wife dies right there. Apparently her carotid artery just snapped. Hell, can you imagine? One minute you’re cutting some lady’s hair, maybe talking about the weather, and then the next minute she’s slumped over dead in your chair.”
“Do you think the stylist got paid?” Frank asked.
“Hell, I don’t know.”
“She sure as hell didn’t get a tip,” Frank said.