COVIDMAN STEPS OUT

I did it, and by accident, too. The other day I needed mushrooms for my chicken and pasta dish and decided to go to the local Handy Pantry, which happens to be adjacent to my Barbershop.

As I got out of my car I noticed that the tonsorial therapist was now open for consultation and abbreviation of what is left of my hairline. I walk over and peek into the door and three customers are sitting in the shop while three barbers are cutting away and waving me in as they do. I opt to enter and get my hair cut.

There are three barbers, Haim, the owner, an escaped convict from Israel who thinks I might be an Arab, Nadia, a Spanish speaking lady (Strictly through her cell-phone), and Rafi, short for Raffaello an old Italian guy who looks like he may be on his last braciole.

I enter and find a seat as I wonder which chair will perform the execution, and look up only to see the prices and realize I am already executed as the prices are up 25% or from $15 to $20!

Haim is a good businessman and I missed him, worried that he might be out of business because of the virus, but thankfully he is still standing! He may be a retired professional bowler by the way he takes hold of my head as he cuts and trims my hair, leaving me with a headache, concussion, and just over-all sense that it was more than just a haircut. When he is done, he does take your money and then shakes your hand.

Nadia can cut hair while balancing her cell phone between her ears, speaking Spanish while cutting in English, yet can count her tips in both Spanish and English, and if you call her on her cell phone in Mandarin, she’ll be able to count that way, too.

Then we come to Rafi boy, a slow, (“I no giver a shit anda no talker”) professional who was around when Jesus was giving his Sermon on the Mount, and Rafi offered to cut his hair for free.

I get Rafi as he puts the finishing touches on his customer while motioning me to come and step forward. Suddenly I notice that there are no customers wearing masks, just the three cut-ups. I bravely remove my masks and sit. I am feeling normal once again, sitting in my barbershop feeling abnormal as usual and fearful for my ears, neck, and scalp. I tell him I want a regular, he nods and like Houdini flaps the apron they put around your neck into the air where he then wraps it around your shoulders. He has lost nothing to the virus.

I hate to do three things and have all my life. 1.) Is going to the doctor, Dr. Strangeglove, B.) the Dentist, Dr. Denti, and of course, III) the barbershop where Haim resides. All required me to wait, then, get some kind of bad news, and a bill to pay.