A tale I would like to share:
I live in a small town, which has exactly one barber shop. The barber shop has exactly one chair. The barber does good haircuts if you catch him before about 3:00 pm, after which he gets drunk and the quality of haircut suffers. The next closest barber is a Supercuts about 5 miles away. Their haircutters do a worse job sober than my barber does drunk. So I stick with this barber and make sure to get in early.
During my latest haircut, between drinks, the barber (we'll call him Dennis, since that is his name) told me about his planter box, which is in front of his shop. The shop is a few doors down from a sleazy dive bar, and one morning Dennis arrived to find that someone (presumably from the sleazy dive bar) had done a face-plant into the planter box and heaved up most of his dinner. Barfly was long gone; his vomit remained. Dennis cleaned up the mess, then drove to the local nursery and bought some little cacti. Which he planted in his planter box.
A few days later, there was evidence that the Barfly had done a repeat performance, right into the cacti. A couple of days after that, one of Dennis' regulars came in for a trim, with numerous small wounds on his face.
"What happened to you?"
"I don't know, man. I must have fell down."
The End.