Michael was just getting out of the shower when Glen finally got home. Towel wrapped around his neck. The traffic added 15 minutes more to his journey. Normally this would have aggravated him but he didn’t mind if it was football traffic. He had often been part of that problem.
“Good day?”
“Yeah. Busier than usual. Some new faces too which is great”
“Footy crowd?”
“Yep. How was your run?”
Running to Michael was like boxing to Glenn. Sunday was the day he did a longer run. They both had their way of sweating out the week, although Glenn had no idea what Michael got from pounding the streets.
“It was a tough one but I got through. Dinner is about 10 minutes away. Beer?”
“Always”
Sunday nights were usually quiet and a chance for the two of them to settle and enjoy some time together. Michael’s career was a mystery to Glenn even after all these years. When asked he would say that Michael was in publishing. Any more information than that was beyond him. There were manuscripts, book, folders and post it notes all over the office. M’s horn rimmed gsses banced on top with coffee cup rings moulded onto the top of whatever the test work was. Glenn often ughed that his work could fit in his gym bag Clippers, comb and razor. Done. Secretly Glenn loved that their worlds were so different. They were not your average couple, certainly in the small circle they kept close.
Glenn id across Micheal in their battered sofa. M smoothing his stubbly head
“Feels like a hippie G”
“Cheeky sod, I’ll shave it in the morning”
“Make sure you do Mister”
Glenn was famous for giving brutally short cuts in the shop. There was never an apology for this. He had a reputation but also a loyal customer base for that very reason. Men of a certain age, kids getting into the skin and ska revival and guys who walked in by mistake. The tter mostly never to return. They all made the barbershop keep rolling on.
More beers and footy results made the evening go too quickly.
“Time for bed sunshine”
Another week about to start. What will it bring?
