My Delilah

I had a simple objective when I stepped into a fancy barbershop Saturday afternoon- I didn't want to look like a homeless person any longer. It was a complex process. Representatives from wildlife control were on hand to trap the small animals stuck in my mop, while Hazmat officials carefully carted away shorn dreadlocks. The barber washed my hair in a sink as part of the detanglement process. Then something marvelous happened- she expertly massaged my supine neck. Oh, sweet unexpected bliss! I didn't scream as much following her gentle gesture.