Tell Me No Lies
Looking through the door-glass into Snoody’s Barbershop, Hershel paused, running fingers through his beginning-to-show-gray shaggy-hair. Seeing only three men sitting in the green vinyl chairs backed against the wall, he went inside.
“Come in, Wurchall” Snoody said enthusiastically. “Only one ahead of you. I’m about trew with Bill.”
“Turn around and run” Willie advised, his blue eyes sparkling. “Bill looked better before Snoody started clipping. Now he’s slicker than a bowling ball.”
After hanging his jacket on a peg, Hershel sat down in a chair with a duct tape patch on the seat. “Snoody, did you know a guy bald in front is a thinker. If he’s bald in back, he’s a lover. If he’s bald front-to-back like Bill, he just thinks he’s a lover.”
After the guffaws stopped, Snoody patted Bill’s bald pate. “Yah, he got a landing strip for mosquitoes, I tink.” He removed the cape and Bill got out of the barber-chair. Snoody nodded at a portly red-headed man. “You’re next, Ted.”
Ralph cleared his throat. Hooking thumbs in his coverall’s shoulder straps, he leaned forward and looked intently at Hershel. “I guess you heard old man Saltzman sued the City, didn’t you?”
“Hmph!” muttered Hershel.
“You know who he is, don’t you?”
“He owns The Men’s Emporium over on Main Street. He’s that little Jew, stands about four foot eight.”
“That’s him. He’s suing the City” Ralph chortled, popping a two-thumbs-up confirmation.
“Yah, Wurchal” Snoody chimed in without interrupting the musical snipping of his scissors above Ted’s left ear.
“Okay, I’ll bite” Hershel said. “Why is Saltzman suing the City?”
“Last year the City tore up the sidewalk in front of his store and put down a new one. Now he’s suing because they build the sidewalk too close to his sitter-downer” Snoody exclaimed.
All the guys hooted and hollered, knowing they had Hershel believing for a moment Saltzman had filed suit against the City.
“You clowns must have escaped from Barnum and Bailey” Hershel said. “Don’t you have something better to do than hang around Snoody’s?”
“I’m out of here” Ralph muttered, leveraging his lanky frame out of his chair with the help of a stout cane. “I’ve got to meet a man and take care of some business with a government official.”
“Hmph!” Herchel uttered, looking at his watch. “You’re heading to Lou Ann’s to drink coffee with the sheriff and eat a slice of chocolate pie with calf slobbers on it. Every crook in the county knows when the best time to stop-and-rob is.”
“Wurchal, haven’t you heard? The sheriff’s in the hospital.”
“Later” Ralph said, hobbling out the door Bill was holding open. They walked south, though Lou Ann’s was north two blocks.
“I heard he choked on a French fry,” Ted said, laughing.
Hershel looked towards the back. “Willie, what happened to the sheriff?”
Willie put down a hunting magazine and lifting his chin, scratched the whisker stubble on his throat with an index finger. “I heard it was one of them love triangle things.”
“That fat sheriff? A love triangle? Who’d a guessed that?” Hershel asked.
“Yah, Wurchal. He loved his food pyramid but it was upside down and it fell on him.” Snoody snickered.
“He’s getting his gut cinched with one of those bands” Willie said. “It was getting where he couldn’t catch a prisoner moving away at a fast walk. He’s keeping it on the QT so everyone will think he’s on the job. Can you believe that?”
“Hmpf!” Hershel muttered. “It’s best to forget anything you hear in here. Our wives’ hair-twisting parlors can’t hold a candle to this place.” He picked up a newspaper from the chair beside him, scanned the headlines and then laid it back down. “You know guys; the Bible has a lot to say about gossiping. We better chew on that and act accordingly.”
“Wurchal,” Snoody said, grinning, never missing a beat with his scissors, “I tink you don’t know where Ralph was going?”
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