You start wondering where those friendships have gone. But they haven't really gone anywhere. They may have become more complicated over the years. But a friend in need is still a friend indeed. And sometimes you really need a friend.

Like this guy in the barbershop. He didn't need much. Or maybe he needed a lot, I don't know. But what he needed right then was the comfort of knowing he had friends.

He looked as though he might be troubled. But, mostly, he just looked bored. The type of bored that causes a person to stare at air. Teenager bored. Sitting- in- a- barber- chair- on- a- brutally- hot- afternoon- doing- nothing- but- watching- a- friend- cut- hair- beats- doing- anything- else bored.

The phone rang. It rang a second time. A third. The phone was on a counter maybe a foot from where the bored guy sat. He was, in fact, closer to the phone than anyone else. Even though he didn't own the barbershop or even work at it, I knew instinctively that he had permission to answer its phone. But he didn't.

It was driving me nuts. Why didn't he pick up the receiver?

A large female barber was cutting someone's hair in the chair next to mine. She, too, was going nuts. She fixed the bored guy with a withering glare and said, "Hey. You wanna answer that?"

The bored guy didn't argue, didn't explain, didn't even sigh. He just reached over lazily and picked up the phone. "Hello," he said in a voice so low you could barely hear it. I wondered when he would give the phone to one of the two barbers. He never did. I strained to hear his conversation. But he spoke so softly that even in the quiet stillness of the afternoon, I couldn't make out a single word.

As he talked, his expression never once changed. He didn't laugh. He didn't grimace. He didn't betray a single emotion.