I got a haircut a few days ago—always a liberating experience—and the woman who cut it was competent, courteous, and made just the right amount of small talk to ameliorate the boredom without straying into mindless jabber. I was happy with the results. It was almost the perfect haircut. Almost.

Things were fine as she began shearing a month’s worth of shag from my dome, until she turned the chair around and set about clipping near my face. When she spoke, I had to suppress the urge to wince and recoil. Her breath was foul. It would be no hyperbole to use a familiar, if vulgar simile: it smelled like shit. I’m not kidding; the second whiff confirmed that the corrupt fumes wafting from her chops smelled exactly like dog droppings.

She was pleasant and proficient, so I gave her a respectable tip, flirting with the idea of saying something as I handed it over- but how does one broach a topic like that, especially with a stranger? I hadn’t really devoted any time to consider the idea, though the chances were good that even if I had, I’d still manage to blurt out something ridiculous or stutter unintelligibly, ruining any chance at subtlety. So I said nothing.

How does one go about such a potentially delicate, or even disastrous, social task? I’m guessing there’s really no foolproof way to approach it. If she’s still working by the time I need my next haircut, I’ll at least have had a month to think about it.