I got a hair cut this afternoon at Supercuts on Pico near Rexford.
I asked for it to be short on the front and sides and to be left long in the back.
The lady cut it short all the way round.
I lost about four inches from my mane!
Then, walking home on Pico Blvd, at Aish HaTorah on Doheny, I pass this black lady. She looks about 25. She wears a towel over hair and she’s shlepping a bag. She looks like a crazed homeless bag lady.
I turn right on Livonia for the LAPL branch at Robertson and Airdrome. The lady follows 20 feet behind me. Intermittently, I hear her crazed demented laughter.
She has no cell phone.
I go into the library, check out two books, and then leave.
She’s still following me.
I stop and walk up to me. "Are you following me?" I ask.
She smiles. She’s friendly. She’s kinda cute in a dark African crazed way. "I was hoping you’d show me to a bathroom. The lady at the library wouldn’t give me a key."
"You don’t need a key to use the restroom at the library."
"What books do you have?" she asks.
I show her James Kugel’s volume on how to read the Bible.
"Where’s a bathroom?" she asks.
"There’s one at Starbucks on Pico/Robertson and there’s one at Coffee Bean on La Cienega and 18th."
"What music are you listening to?" she asks.
"A book on tape.
"Look, I’ve got to go."
This time she doesn’t follow me.
I think about that chilling blog post mentioned in the new book "The Future of Reputation," where a lady blogs about her roommate’s ex-boyfriend banging around downstairs.
The ex-boyfriend soon after murdered both women.
