MONDOK

Since I was 16 I had never been to a barber to cut my hair. I cut my own hair. The fact that I can cut my own hair, my service was sought after in time of emergency by my dorm mates. You see, I was in a boarding school and in every Saturday we had this inspection by our warden, who was also the school disciplinary teacher. We must have our bed tidy with a clean bedsheet, clean and tidy locker, wear national dress with the school theme 'samping' and most of all we must have our hair neatly cut. This was where my skill in cutting my own hair made me busy in Friday afternoons. Cutting my friends' hair got me some extra pocket money that I needed most as my my parents couldn't send me much. I did not come from a well to do family.

I had a few regular customers with different hair styles requirement. The one style I could never forget called 'airport runaway' from this particular customer, who was also my good friend. We called him Mondok in school. I didn't know for sure why he was called Mondok, but all of us got our nickname while we were in school. I won't tell mine, it is secret.

On one particular Friday, I was so tired that I went for a nap in my dorm immediately after the school periods were over. I didn't even go for my lunch. I slept like a log. Mondok woke me up at around 5.00 pm and asked me to cut his hair for tomorrow's inspection. I was still groggy but I couldn't say no because I had promised him early in the morning before school. So I started cutting his hair while yawning myself out. Snip... snip.... snip... I was cutting his hair for an 'airport runaway' look. Snip and...... a big.... OOUUCCHH. Mondok yelled and jumped from the chair. I had snipped his right ear. Some blood dripped down and he ran to the sickbay for help.

I didn't charge Mondok for the service. I gave him a free hair and ear cut that day.