Hair Gel

Frodo sent me a SMS message, “Let’s jog tonight.” We haven’t seen each other for quite some time.

“Aren’t you going to the wake tonight?”

“We can proceed later after the jog.”

Quite predictably, after a few minutes, he sent me another message, “Let’s postpone the jog. I don’t have my hair wax or gel with me. We can go to the wake.”

I stared at my phone for a few seconds, not knowing what to reply. Apparently, he can’t run with a messy hair-do.

Frodo has this annoying habit of changing his plans at the last minute.

“No, you go ahead. I’ll go later”, I texted him back.

“What’s wrong with you? You’re still planning to jog? OK, I’ve changed my mind. Let’s jog. Just bring hair gel with you.”

How can it possibly be my fault?

Frodo is a good friend. But he can be a total anal-retentive sometimes.

We ran for about an hour. I understand his eagerness to jog. He’s put on a few pounds. He’s been attending dragon boat training sporadically.

During dinner at the Thai restaurant, our conversation turned serious.

“You’re gaining weight. At that rate, I think you might look like a night club bouncer soon.” I couldn’t help myself. I just have to jab him with it.

“Well look at you. I can see your scalp from afar.”

I had a message from Jun, "Wake scheduled for tomorrow night."

Anyway, Frodo paid the bill. Later he dropped me off at Starbucks where I had a mocha java frappuccino.