Hairdresser
Lorrain Tolliver
An ordinary guy--no philosopher type.
I trusted him.
“It’s the lowest, dirtiest thing
one person can do to another,”
I overheard him say as I paid and left.
I kept trying to figure out what he meant.
He had said it to the woman at his booth
while combing her wet, curly hair.
Another client’s wallet had just been stolen,
but something in his voice
told me he didn’t mean that.
He seemed to know
what was the lowest, dirtiest thing.
I worked two days while thw question floated.
Then I steeped back to the shop
and hustled to his booth,
I asked him for the answer.
His eyes slipped into quick, clear focus.
“Pretending to care
when the feeling’s not there.”
