meisa's lagoon

i have a strange relationship with 2 men i don't know. they dress in little white coats and i like to envision that they wear these coats all the time, except for when they go to bed. that's when they wear the nightgowns with nightcaps and walk around holding candles because they have no electricity. they are father and son and come home in the evenings to a woman (presumably the wife/mother) who works all day to cook them stew in the fire pit.
these men are the barbers at the barber shop down the block. i see them every morning cutting hair, and my imagination is set on fire. i ignore the fact that they have electricity in their barber shop and assume they only use it for the customers' comfort. i ignore that my friends tell me they see the barbers on the el, because of course, the barbers have no reason to leave; they live right above their shop. i hide my eyes when i see the barbers wearing regular clothes, because they don't have any, only little white coats.
we started off exchanging smiles every morning. the smiles soon grew into waves, but that is as far as it goes. when i see them outside the shop i grow very uncomfortable. because, of course, we would be expected to exchange pleasantries, and i prefer not to speak to them. they don't speak english after all, only polish or lithuanian. but really they don't speak at all, they are mutes. so you can see what a shock it is when they say "hello". i politely return their greeting, but move on and shake off the discomfort from them ruining my vision.
this morning i actually stepped into the shop to drop off some holiday cookies for them to eat after their stew. not having the glass between us and actually speaking was very strange. tomorrow will be better. we will smile and wave, not speak.