The Columnist Manifesto

While B and I were doing our Thanksgiving grocery shopping, an attractive young woman walked by. (Other than B, I mean.) She looked vaguely familiar, and we did a mutual double-take, and then said hello.

It turns this was Rebecca, my most recent "salon" hair cutter, before I went out and got my barbershop haircut.

I think Rebecca didn't recognize me at first because my new haircut looked so good.

Talk about mixed feelings: half sheepishness over taking my business elsewhere, and half the kind of pride you feel when your ex sees you in your hot new look.