Munchkins

I wish Don would have taken a picture.  We were at the fanciest restaurant on Wednesday night, our last night in Reykjavik.  We had gotten used to all sorts of looks, as the Icelandic people are pretty non-judgmental and free and easy about dress, hair styles, and the like.

Suddenly, emerging from the bar downstairs, I saw a six-inch long, two-inch wide wisp of heavily-moussed hair ascending the stairs, standing straight up on the head of a short, round man.  He was wearing a red suit, and had I not known better, I would have thought of him straight out of the Wizard of Oz.  

He was at least in his fifties - as Don said, old enough to know better - and he went out to smoke right outside the window where we were eating.  I so badly wanted Don to take a picture of him from behind, but he wouldn't do it.  Too bad.  It was a sight worth seeing!