During my first haircut, I listened to men in other chairs. One discussed a woman found dead in her apartment.
“The police determined the last thing she ate was chocolate-covered graham crackers and decided she had a bad reaction to them and died,” he said.
I looked at my brothers in fear. We had chocolate-covered graham crackers in our freezer. I’d eaten many and liked them. Not anymore. To this day, I haven’t eaten any. I don’t even enjoy the campfire tradition of s’mores – graham crackers, chocolate and marshmallows. I’ve never cared much since for haircuts or barber shops either.