Things are not always as they seem

I wrote in an earlier post that I had achieved the most significant recovery milestone last week. My decidedly down-town hair stylist came up to the apartment and cut my hair. God bless him. He arrived with all the necessary tools in a stylin leather euro-style case. We had promised him we'd cook a meal for him, but Terry ended up traveling for business that day and came home too late to cook. So when Thomas was done, we called a car service to take us all to a neighborhood spot. The local town car service is more convenient and less expensive than hailing a yellow cab.

I didn't see them, but apparently some of my friends from the building were sitting out on a balcony when we left for dinner. I received an email from one of them a couple of days later:
"Last Wed., when Michelle and I were at Matthias' apartment, we witnessed you from the balcony getting into a limo with Terry and a bald man with a briefcase. And you were wearing sweat pants. It was all very John Le Carre. What's going on?"

This is how rumors get started. Don't worry guys, the only sin was that hair!