Ol'
Baldy was all the
name anyone ‘
round here ever
knew him by. Seems he'd been
old and bald so long that no one had
thought to
remember that he once had the name of a young man with a respectable
mane. It is, after all, a
nickname only bestowed on one who is quite bald, and bald because quite old. Some might take offense to it. But not Ol' Baldy. He simply sets there in the
guest chair in the
barbershop (obviously he's not there for getting a
haircut!!)
rattling on with the barber. The barber's
father used to cut Ol' Baldy's hair, back when he had hair to be cut, back when he was off
wooing ladies on a
Saturday night, in the flash of his youth.
But the old barber's son, he never had a chance to land
scissors on Ol' Baldy's
locks, they having given way to age while the father still ran the shop; and so, when the father
passed on, he could leave his son Ol' Baldy not as a
customer, but only as a
friend. Which he surely was, Ol' Baldy being friendly to pretty much anyone, and calling as a friend, everyone who was friendly back. Which was most everyone, for who couldn't help but be friendly to the
cheerful little old feller settin' in the guest chair in the barbershop.
Sometimes Ol' Baldy reads the
paper, and sometimes he does the
crossword. And sometimes the young barber tilts his thoughts over there and goes, "hey there Ol' Baldy, how are you doing?" And Ol' Baldy creakily replies with a
smile "well, I haint gettin' any younger."
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About 275 words, for BrevityQuest11