A Haircut

I accompanied my husband when he went to get a haircut. While waiting, I flipped through a book with hairstyles and I found a hairstyle I liked for myself. I asked the receptionist if I could take the book next door to make a copy of the photo.
“Leave some ID, a driver’s license or a credit card,” she said.
“But my husband is here getting a haircut,” I explained.
“Yes,” she replied. “But I need something you’ll come back for.”