Many things that I write about are unexpected. Here’s another one.
I got my haircut last night and, while driving home, called Jessica (the girlfriend). Wait, I’d like to back up a step and complain about something. Okay, if you read my stuff you know I bicycle to work and it’s pretty strenuous. I go to one of these high-end salons in the Gold Coast of Chicago off Michigan Avenue. For three years I’ve been a patron, and for three years I’ve biked there. I arrive covered in sweat with the helmet, my gross bike clothes, and my dog in a backpack. They couldn’t be nicer about it. During the winter months I take the subway still with dog in tow.
