Ears pears

As my heart beats violently I clench my sweaty palms. I look around and my eyes ache. Gazing at the stuff that has just came in, shuffling back into the seat it creaks like a wooden door shutting in a haunted house. Its frog skin coloured stool is sort of uncomfortable . The lady's earrings reflect in the 1 o'clock sun. I can just make out what she is saying because of the background noise of the customers. She shifts her  wrinkled hand towards my ear. Her damp cold hand tickles against my pale skin. The silver earings tinker in the golden cylinder. She counts down then next second once again I am sitting on the frog coloured seat still gazing at the stuff that was in front of me. However she is counting down for the second ear.