The barber, Telly, was expecting an eventful day. Sundays usually left the shop with a line running out the door (which wasn't the most pleasant thing in such a hot town), because Telly was the only barber in town and Sunday was Mandatory Shave Day. Telly shaved everyone who didn't shave themselves, and Norman didn't shave himself.

Norman had called the day before, asking for an appointment at half-past two. It was quarter-past two, and Telly still didn't have any customers. It had been a terribly boring day.

Norman showed up for his appointment three minutes and thirty seconds early, as he always did to his appointments. He was a new customer at Telly's, and he was new in town. After his son moved away, Norman wanted to downsize. It was just him, and his cat named Norman.

Telly lathered up Norman's face, picked up the recently-stropped razor, and had just set it on Norman's face when the radio fizzled on:

shkkkkzzzt-IT IS STREET CLEANING DAY.

The radio's speakers blew out with a loud pop. Telly jumped and ran from the building, leaving Norman with a lathered face and a nasty cut on his cheek.

Norman was not having a good day.