I thought I had made it through winter without being banished to our travel trailer. No such luck. Evidently last week’s column sparked a rumor about my marital fidelity – or the possible lack thereof.
When the backdraft from that rumor reached our home it set off a full-fledged firestorm. The result, to paraphrase an old tune by Gene Autry, ”I’m back in the trailer again, out where I don’t have a friend…”
The title of last week’s column was, “Only my hairdresser knows for sure.” It was an innocent story (and true, as all of my stories are) about the relationship my wife and a friend of hers have with their hairdressers; but at the end of the column I happened to share a few brief comments about the relationship I have with my hairdresser. It was those comments that sparked the rumor, that sparked the firestorm, that sparked my involuntary move to the travel trailer.
In case you missed last week’s column here are the comments I shared about my hairdresser: “Our relationship started out innocently enough but one thing led to another and…well…the truth is we’re having an affair. It happened liked this. After retiring a little over a year ago I decided I could save a few dollars by having a lady cut my hair that does so in her home. The first couple of times she cut my hair were routine, but on the third occasion I felt her blowing on the back of my neck. At first I thought she was just blowing away some hair, but then I felt her lips softly press against my neck and she suggested I take my shirt off to avoid getting hair on it. Well, to move this along, I wound up staying the night and she quit charging me for haircuts. I hope you can understand this is a relationship I want to preserve. As to her identity I’ll just say, only my hairdresser knows for sure.”
Apparently the reader who started the rumor about my possible lack of marital fidelity had failed to pick up on a subtle hint I had dropped at the beginning of the column.
The hint read, ”As we were riding along in the car, she [my wife] reached ver and touched my knee, then gave me a little wink and said, ‘You need a haircut’.”
I thought this was enough of a clue for readers to figure out that my wife, Yvonne, also happens to be my hairdresser, and would realize I was just having a little fun in saying I am having an affair with my hairdresser.
Unfortunately, when Yvonne heard about the rumor she was not a happy camper, especially since she has told me several times to cease and desist in writing about her in my column. I guess I can’t blame her for sending me packing to the travel trailer with a stern recommendation that I consider using this week’s column to clarify the matter. I’m thinking an apology might help too, so here goes, “Honey. I’m sorry. I promise I won’t write about my hairdresser anymore.”
All’s well that ends well. As it turns out, being banished to the travel trailer was a good thing. You may recall, even though spring arrived last week, it was mighty cold at night. I figured, what the heck, if I’m going to spend the next week in the travel trailer I might as well do so where it’s warm, so I called my hairdresser and asked if she would like to sneak away and spend a week with me camping somewhere in the sunny South. To my delight she said yes! As I’m writing this, we’re soaking up the sun at a cozy campsite near Natchez, Mississippi.
Now I’m racking my brain trying to think of an interesting topic for next week’s column. Hmmm…maybe I’ll write about my travel trailer sweetheart. That should be a topic that won’t get me into trouble.
George Brown is a freelance writer. He and his wife Yvonne live in Jackson Township.