One of the great things about being a writer is that wherever you go, whatever you hear, and whatever happens to you, "It's all material."
Yesterday I experienced one of the stranger usually mundane settings: a barbershop here in Palm Springs (I'm travelling at the moment--off to LA tomorrow). The barber, who is also the owner, was pleasant enough, but all around the shop there were angry signs.
One read, "Sit still in your chair, don't use your phone, let us do our job!"
Another was a large poster with advice for keeping your hair and skin nice, saying, among other things, that "most shampoo is crap," and "if you don't shower for at least 20 minutes a day, and you have bad skin, it's your own fault."
Another warned, "Come in with clean hair! No gels, no shampoo, no sweat!" (This is an old-fashioned place that doesn't do shampooing, but in a place where the summer temperature often rises to 110 degrees F, I'm not sure the 'no sweat' idea is totally realistic).
I was tempted to comment on all these signs, but the man did have a sharp object in his hand...
Still, it's all material.