Charley walked into the barber shop at the crack of noon. He
had wandered down from his residential room and wanted to spruce up after his
usual room service breakfast to spruce up before his usual round of meetings
and sitdowns.
“Good morning Senor Ross…I be witcha in a minute” said
Enrico the barber. There were a few Italians that worked in the toney WASP
world of the Waldorf Astoria. Charley was just about the only Italian that
stayed there. It was toney not Tony.
Charley stopped short. He recognized the stubby body under
the towel in the chair. It was Albert. He didn’t belong there. Charley was
always wary when somebody showed up where they weren't supposed to be.