âMy helmet feels so tight. It must be my hair. What? Itâs been over four months since Iâve had a cut. I think Iâm getting a headache from the pressure.â
These were the thoughts spinning through my mind as I was cycling along a quiet neighbourhood street. We were well into the pandemic of 2020 and just entering the so-called phase 2. The big guy at Queenâs Park and the good looking guy at Parliament Hill said that we could get haircuts now, but my barber is in Dixie Mall, so thatâs 2 doors in â double the chance of breathing the âpurple hazeâ.
Suddenly, there was a pedestrian walking in front of my path â a young, bald guy with his head buried in a smartphone. I had to hit both brakes hard, causing black skid marks on the pavement. But I didnât hit him, as the shine from his head, like the sparkling white caps on Lake Ontario, caught my attention, and changed my line of thought.
âWhy not go to a street front barber?â I thought, âjust this one time.â
So it just happened that there was a newly opened barber shop right on Lakeshore Drive and I was headed in that direction. When I arrived, I was just going to check it â to see how careful they were inside, before I made the leap. A young guy came out and asked me if he could help me. When I took off my helmet, I noticed a sinister glint in his eyes, and a suspicious grin. He was sizing me up, and I was getting nervous. But he was just looking hungrily at my (60âs-style) hair, but I swear that his fingers were twitching and his hands trembling in a parkinsonian manner.
But I decided to take the plunge and go in for what I hoped would not be aÂ denudification. He smiled anxiously as he sat me down and covered me with a black haircut bib. Then in a flash, he had the electric clippers out and had started. Then he quickly swiveled the chair around so I was looking at the mirror.
âWhat the f#&k!â I exclaimed, as the thoughts of sheep getting sheared stampeded through my head.
âIâm out of here, thatâs enough!â I yelled, jumping out of the chair.
âBut weâve just started and Iâm havinâ some fun today,â he whined.
I ran out onto Lakeshore, the hair bib flying in the wind like the black knight. People were looking as I struggled to get the neck knot undone. Finally got on my bike and started heading home as the wind blew across the desolate expanse of my newly liberated ears and whistled through the air gaps of my helmet. There were tears. I thought I would get some sympathy and understanding as I walked into the house, but,
âBert and Ernie?â she screamed, laughing and rolling on the floor!
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