A woman wants to cut my hair. She is an acquaintance of my mother. She is very particular, talks a lot and I follow her. I have the feeling we're flirting. I get out at a petrol station and find myself in a gap that is so narrow that I have to let myself slide down slowly. I continue to follow the woman to a pub or a salon. Another Polish woman makes a sign that it is already very late. The woman checks my hair and realises that I've injured the tendons in my neck. She massages me and it feels strange but I enjoy the touch. She massages my face so hard that I can no longer see properly. My vision is severely restricted and I have blurred vision. She says this is normal, that she uses the Schrot-Therapy and expresses her displeasure that the state does not recognise this form of therapy. During the whole time, she has only made a single cut to my hair. She then uses an app to show me how much I can still see. I’m thinking to myself, maybe she should give me a massage? The touch does me good. The woman gives me something to drink. I empty the glass in one gulp and then ask if it contains alcohol. I spill some over the table. She gives me a napkin, which is too small for all the spillages, but I try to wipe it all up.