The Haircut

Today was the day. I dressed, splashed my best cologne, and drove to the barber. The line was long but I sat patiently savouring my plan. The barber did a good job, fitting for the events that would shortly unfold. My nemesis, Reuben, waited carelessly on the squash court. Soon he had me down 1 – nil, then I evened the score. Then he was up 3 – 1. I was feeling the work out at 3 – 2. My muscles were singing sweetly as I drew even. Oh yeh, he wanted to play a tie breaker. He ran, he slid, he dived. I cursed at my unforced errors. Up 10 – 8 points in the last game I got serve and as he miss hit an all or nothing return, I performed a subdued celebration, shook his hand, and took ten minutes to get my breath back.  Later, looking in the mirror, I thought, “yeh, good haircut.”

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